The Legacy - The Formative Years
by rittenden
Summary: A revisitation of 'The Legacy' through the thoughts of James Reed, Jr. Un-beta'd. Please see A/N in chapter 1 for clarification.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _I am not a professional writer and have never claimed to be. All standard disclaimers apply. Constructive criticism is welcome, flames are not. No likee no readee._

Now that that part's out of the way, a little explanation for this story: After writing 'The Legacy' I received several reviews where the readers said (in a variety of ways) that the story lacked emotion. This was a deliberate attempt on my part to relate the thoughts of a reasonable, logical adult recounting their memory of a childhood full of upheaval - _after_ they had grown old enough to rationalize it, recover from it and recall it without pain. Apparently it was less than successful.

**HOWEVER**

I was recently contacted by one of my favorite writers (I leave out the name simply because I've neglected to ask permission to use it - you know who you are) and they suggested I revisit the story and retell it in a more immediate and in-depth manner. The idea intrigued me. I once read a story written in this particular style and loved it, so I thought I'd try my hand at it for this. I'm not stealing an idea, merely utilizing a novel method of telling a story. I hope I've done it justice. It's not necessary to read 'The Legacy' first as I've taken a few liberties here and this story doesn't strictly follow that one. It might, however, give the reader some idea of where this one came from.

That being said, this is uncharacteristically a WIP. It's currently at 9 chapters and growing daily (in-between course loads). I've had to remove the first bit because FF doesn't support Word formatting so strikethroughs don't show up and there's no workaround. Also I'll likely be posting **two chapters at a time** because the chapter breaks are in the most sensible spots but the chapters seem awfully small to me on here.

* * *

November 15, 1977

This is the first entry into the journal of Jimmy Reed Jr. Actually, it's the second entry but the first one doesn't count because I scratched it out. As soon as I wrote 'diary' I quit because diaries are for girls.

I wasn't going to write in this but I changed my mind because one, my Uncle Pete gave it to me for my birthday last week and two because he says if I write stuff down like I'm talking to someone it'll help. I don't know what it's supposed to help with but Uncle Pete is a smart guy and I love him so I'll do it. He also said "don't erase stuff" so I only scratched it out. I hope that's okay.

* * *

November 28, 1977

I wrote that first bit and then put the book away and forgot about it. I'll try to write something every week if I remember.

Since I can't think of anything I'll just write stuff about my family.

My full name is James Allan Reed, Jr. I am 8 and my birthday is November 8th. I was born in 1969. I have a brother named Michael Joseph Reed and he's 1. He was born in the summer but I forget what day. I'll have to ask my mom.

My mom's name is Jean Reed and she works at an office writing letters and talking on the phone. She doesn't work all the time because Mikey's little and she has to take care of him, plus she wants to be home by the time I'm off school.

My dad's name is James Allan Reed and I'm named after him. He's a police officer here in Los Angeles where we live. He used to live with us but him and Mom had a big fight and now he lives in an apartment. Me and Mikey spend every other weekend with him and sometimes my Uncle Pete, too.

Uncle Pete's real name is Peter Joseph Malloy. Dad says his middle name is the same as Mikey's because Uncle Pete is his best friend in the whole world. He's not really my uncle, though. Dad says he's my godfather which means that if I ever need a new dad, he's the guy who's supposed to do it. I don't know why I need a godfather but I love Uncle Pete so it's okay with me.

I guess I should also put Mikey's godfather in here. His name is Steve Price but he doesn't come over to our house. I saw him once when we went to the church for Mikey's christening (Mom helped me spell that) but I haven't seen him since. He sent Mikey a birthday card, though.

Oh and I also have a turtle named George. Dad got him for my birthday because I really, really wanted him even though Mom wasn't happy about it.

That's it I guess.

* * *

December 24, 1977

I forgot about this journal again. Stuff has been happening around here and I just remembered Uncle Pete told me to write in here when I needed someone to talk to.

Dad came over to spend Christmas Eve with us. He was really happy when he came in but Mom gave him a letter and now he's just pretending to be happy. I can tell because when I finished supper and went into the living room to open presents, him and Mom stayed in the kitchen talking soft and then when they came in Mom looked mad and Dad wasn't smiling. He almost always smiles around me and Mikey.

We usually have Christmas on Christmas day but Dad had to work so we did it early. Mom says we'll have Santa presents at Grandma and Grandpa's house tomorrow. I don't know if I believe in Santa anymore but we went to see him at the mall and I told him what I wanted for Christmas. I'll find out tomorrow if he's a big faker.

* * *

December 25, 1977

Santa Claus is a big fake. I don't believe in him anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

January 12, 1978

Santa Claus is for babies. I asked him to bring my dad back for good and he didn't do it. We haven't seen him since Christmas Eve. Mom says he's working a lot but I think she's a big faker too.

I haven't even seen my Uncle Pete. He sent me a new baseball glove for Christmas. That was cool.

I wanted my dad though.

* * *

April 16, 1978

I think I'm gonna give up on this dumb journal. I keep forgetting about it.

* * *

June 20, 1978

I just got back from a camping trip with my dad. I'm glad Uncle Pete gave me this book now because I want to talk to someone not my mom and Uncle Pete is working.

Me and my dad went camping for a whole week and had lots of fun. We slept in a tent and caught fish for supper and even cooked it over a fire on sticks the way the Indians used to do. Dad showed me animal trails and we went hiking and swimming. It was great except for the leeches but Dad had some salt so they weren't too bad. It was kind of cool seeing them all stretched out in the water but kind of gross too. I gave him a card I made in school for Father's Day. He really liked it.

The only bad part was last night. I woke up because I had to pee and Dad wasn't in his sleeping bag. When I went out of the tent he was sitting by the campfire poking it with a stick. He didn't know I was awake at first so I got to see him before he saw me and I think he was crying. My dad never cries. He's a policeman and carries a gun and everything.

I don't know for sure, though, because he didn't look at me when I said I had to pee and then when I came back and saw his whole face it wasn't wet like before.

I think I'll ask Uncle Pete if my dad cries.

* * *

June 26, 1978

Uncle Pete came to take me for ice cream today. He says when Mikey's older we'll take him too. I asked him if my dad cries. I had to tell him about our camping trip and not just the good parts because when I asked him if my dad cries he wanted to know why. He told me everyone cries when they're sad, even policemen. When I asked him if he cries he said "You bet" which was kind of wild.

I asked Mom if she cries and she said grownups don't cry. She _is_ a big faker.

* * *

July 5, 1978

Yesterday was Independence Day. Mom took me and Mikey to see the parade and to a barbecue. I thought we were going to see Dad and Uncle Pete but Mom said they were working. I don't know if I believe her or not. I think she just took us to a different place so we couldn't see Dad. She's always saying we can't see him because he's working. I think she just doesn't want him around us anymore. Me and Mikey are supposed to spend the weekend with him so I guess I'll find out for sure.

* * *

July 10, 1978

I didn't bring my journal with me when we went to Dad's place this weekend. I was pretty sure Mom wasn't going to let us go so I didn't have my stuff packed when Dad showed up and I forgot it. I guess she wasn't faking when she said Dad couldn't come to the barbecue because he was working. I still think she doesn't want us to see him, though.

After Dad left I tried to tell her about going to the Santa Monica Pier but she just got mad and said she didn't want to hear it. I wish I was still at my Dad's.

* * *

July 11, 1978

Mom is a big faker. I got up last night to go to the bathroom and I heard her crying in her room.

* * *

August 17, 1978

Today we got home after spending a week at Grandpa and Grandma Reed's and I was all ready to tell Mom about going to Disneyland but the house was full of boxes. Mom says we have to move to a different house now because this one costs too much. She says the movers will be here tomorrow to pick up our stuff. She also says I'll have to go to a new school and make new friends.

I asked her if Dad knows where we're going and she got mad. She says it's Dad's fault we have to leave our house and go to a new one. I don't know if she's faking again or not.

* * *

August 19, 1978

I hate the new house. My room is small and the window's too high for me to look out. The yard is small too but Mom says there's a park down the street where I can play. She told me my new school is a couple of blocks away so we don't have to drive anymore. I asked if I could come home for lunch but she says she'll be working so I can't.

I have to keep my stuff in my room now because the living room is really small. The kitchen is bigger but we have the table in there so it doesn't look like it. Even Mikey seems to hate the house. He runs around throwing stuff and cries a lot.

On top of that, Mom says Dad can't take us this weekend - he has to work again. She says he'll come pick us up next weekend but I don't know if I want to go. Everything is messed up. I used to want my dad back but now I don't think I do.

* * *

August 26, 1978

Dad came to pick us up today but I didn't want to go. He and Mom had a big fight and then he took Mikey and left. I stayed in my room and played with George. Mom came a little while ago and said Uncle Pete was coming by later but I didn't answer her. I don't really want to see Uncle Pete either.

* * *

August 27, 1978

Uncle Pete came over last night for supper. I stayed in my room until he left and then pretended to be asleep when Mom came to check on me. I heard her talking on the phone with someone - I think it was my dad - and then she went to bed. The walls in this house are really thin and I heard her crying all night.

Today Mom came into my room and started talking about my new school. I wanted to yell at her and say I wasn't going to any school but then I remembered her crying and didn't say anything. After a while she left and I started writing this. I know Dad will be back tonight with Mikey but I don't want to talk to him. If he really cared about us he wouldn't have left and we wouldn't have had to move.

* * *

September 5, 1978

I hate my new school too.

I had to stand up in front of the class while the teacher told everyone my name and said that I was new. She said she knew we'd get to be friends really fast but I knew different. It only took until recess to find out I was right. This one kid named Jerry Pinkerton cornered me by the monkey bars and started teasing me while all the other kids stood around and laughed. I put up with it for about two minutes before I pushed him hard. He went down on his butt and everyone stopped laughing. Next thing I knew Jerry was up and running at me but I jumped out of the way and he went right into the monkey bars head first. The playground teacher came then and grabbed me and Jerry and dragged us into the school. Jerry had to go to the nurse's office because his head was bleeding but I had to go to the office. The teacher came in and talked to the principal and then he called my mom. Then he made me wait on a bench until she came down to talk to him. Mom made me tell her and the principal what happened and then the principal said I had to write lines after school. I think I was supposed to go home then but Mom had to leave work to come to the school and she had to go back. The principal said it was alright for me to stay but that I'd have to be in the office all day writing lines. Mom told me we were going to have a talk after and then she left.

After school I came home and Mom was still mad. She made me sit at the kitchen table while she told me how bad I was for pushing Jerry Pinkerton. She said if I was defending myself it would be different but I started the fight so that was bad. I don't know how she can say that when it was Jerry who started it by teasing me but I knew if I said anything I'd get sent to bed without supper. That's happened a couple of times since we moved here and it's no fun, believe me. I'm awake almost all night because my stomach is growling.

(I looked up how to spell 'principal' because I don't want to talk to my mom right now.)

* * *

September 9, 1978

I remembered to bring my journal this time.

Dad is in the kitchen making us sandwiches for lunch. He came by the house right after school to pick me up yesterday - and this time he didn't bring Mikey with us. I'm pretty sure he wants to have a talk about what happened at school but I don't really want to. I had to write "I will not pick fights at school" five hundred times and I just want to forget about it. I'm pretty sure that's not going to happen though.

I thought maybe Uncle Pete was going to come over today but Dad says he's on vacation with Aunt Judy and David somewhere back east. I don't know where that is even though I looked it up in my atlas. I'll ask him next time I see him I guess.

Dad's calling me for lunch. I'd better go and get my talk done. At least he doesn't get mad like Mom does.

* * *

October 31, 1978

Mom's taking me and Mikey out trick-or-treating tonight. We're just waiting for Aunt Judy and David to show up before we go out. Mikey's dressed like a bumblebee and he looks kind of cute. He's got wings and a stinger and everything. I'm going as a pirate. Mom says David is dressed as a hobo. I don't know what that is but my dictionary says it's a 'tramp or vagrant'. I don't know what those are either I bet it looks pretty cool. David always has neat ideas.

Last year Dad and Uncle Pete took us out trick-or-treating but Mom says they're both working this year. I was dressed as a ghost and Mikey wore this sleeper that made him look like a lion. I asked Mom why Dad had to work so much and she said because he didn't take his promotion when she asked him to.

I'll have to look up 'promotion' when I get back. Aunt Judy and David just drove up in their car.

* * *

November 6, 1978

It's my birthday in two days. Mom says Dad isn't coming but Uncle Pete will be here. I heard her on the phone last night with Dad having another fight. I guess he's got to work again. I sure wish he'd take his promotion so he doesn't have to work so much. I looked it up and it means 'advancement in rank or position'. When I asked my teacher she said it means a better job with more pay. I wonder if Mom and Dad would still be together if he'd taken a promotion last year?

* * *

November 10, 1978

I'm supposed to go to Dad's this weekend. Him and Mom swapped last weekend so I could be with him this weekend for Veteran's Day. Dad had Mikey last weekend and not me so this weekend he could have me and not Mikey. He wants me to go to the Veteran's Day ceremony with him and Uncle Pete and Aunt Judy and David. Mikey's two but he's still too small to go, Dad says.

I really want to ask if him and Mom would still be together if he'd taken his promotion but I think it's a bad idea. Mom says he's a detective and doesn't wear a uniform anymore but it's too late. I don't think it's too late but Mom says it's a grownup thing and I wouldn't understand. It doesn't matter anyway - I know I can't ask him stuff like that this weekend.

* * *

November 30, 1978

I've tried to figure it out but I guess my mom was right when she said I wouldn't understand. She told me Dad was a policeman who didn't take his promotion when she wanted him to. Then she said he was still a policeman but now he's a detective and doesn't have to wear a uniform. If he's a detective then that means he did take his promotion, so why aren't they together anymore?

Maybe this is one of those things I have to ask Uncle Pete about, instead of writing in this journal.

* * *

December 5, 1978

Me and Mikey spent the weekend at Dad's again. Uncle Pete was there. I told him I wanted to talk to him and he said he'd come by sometime this week and we'd go out.

* * *

December 9, 1978

Uncle Pete came today and took me out for ice cream. He told my mom we were going to have some 'guy talk'. I thought that was funny. My mom must've thought so too because she smiled at Uncle Pete and winked before hugging me goodbye.

We went to Venice Beach and sat on the sand and talked. I asked him to explain the whole promotion thing but what he said seemed kind of weird. He told me my dad was made a detective long before my mom and dad split up but it didn't make any difference. The promotion my mom was talking about was supposed to get Dad off the street and into an office but that didn't happen. Being a detective means he gets a little more money and better hours but he still has to drive a police car and work overtime, especially if he has a big case to work on. Uncle Pete said there's more and more people in Los Angeles every year and that means more work for policemen to do, so Dad's hours are pretty much the same as they were when he was in uniform.

He also said my mom didn't really want him to get a promotion as much as she wanted him to have a different job but that it wasn't going to happen. When I asked him why not he said that guys who wear a badge are policemen before they get one. I was going to ask him what he meant but he said it was getting late and we had to get back.

If getting a different job would've kept Mom and Dad together, why didn't he do it?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** A bit of trivia, in case anyone is interested... The name of Mikey's godfather as listed in the first chapter is Steve Price. In a 1967 letter written by Bob Cinader pitching the show, 'Steve Price' was the original suggested name for Reed. Malloy's was 'Mike Wilson'. The names were of no consequence because they were just used to pitch the _idea_ but I thought it intriguing. Steve Price in this story is almost an anti-Malloy in the the godfather role and he's certainly no Jim Reed. Just a bit of a giggle. Oh - I got the information from a scan of the letter on Kent McCord's website (giving credit where it's due and all).

If anyone has suggestions on improvement at this point, feel free to PM me. I'm still working on this monster so I welcome all suggestions and may even incorporate them, seeing as how I'm still able to right now. Enjoy.

* * *

January 25, 1979

Today's the first day I've got all my stuff back. This journal was in a box of my puzzles so it went when all that got taken away.

I guess I should tell what happened.

After I talked to Uncle Pete about Dad's promotion I got this idea that Mom didn't know Dad got the promotion she wanted him to so I decided I was going to tell her about it. I didn't know Mom had a bad day. Her boss told her she couldn't work there anymore because he was closing the office and then the sitter that looks after Mikey said Mom had to find someone else because he always acts out after Mom drops him off and she didn't want him there anymore. But like I said, I didn't know that because when I came home after school she was there with Mikey like normal. I started telling her about Dad's promotion and she got mad and said she didn't want to hear it. Then I got mad too and yelled at her. I said Dad got his promotion like she wanted but she didn't care and that she just wanted to keep me and Mikey from seeing Dad and that I hated this house and my school and the kids there and that I hated her too. Then I went to my room and slammed the door and started playing with one of my puzzles.

A little while later I heard a car pull up in the driveway. I had to climb up on my bed to look out the window. I didn't know the car but when the door opened Dad got out. He looked really upset. Not mad upset but kind of like he was sad about something. I got down when he came up the steps and then I heard the doorbell ring. I went back to my puzzle but I wasn't really working on it. I was actually trying to hear what was going on in the kitchen.

I heard my mom and dad talking for a while and then Mom's voice got louder until I could hear what she was saying. She was telling Dad that us being here was all his fault. Then my dad got loud too and said it was the best he could do with the money he was making and it wasn't his idea that they had to get a divorce.

Anyway, they said lots more stuff that I couldn't hear so I went back to doing my puzzle. I was just about finished it when Dad knocked on my door and asked if he could come in (he's always doing stuff like that). I said 'yeah' so he opened the door and came and sat on my bed. I didn't say anything so he said he wanted to talk to me.

I'll finish this tomorrow. My hand is getting sore.

* * *

January 26, 1979

After my dad said he wanted to talk to me I just looked at him. He said I had 'that' look on my face but I didn't know what he meant so I just shrugged and went back to my puzzles. I guess that was the wrong thing to do because he got loud and told me to turn around and look at him. When I did he said that what I told Mom was hurtful and he wanted to know why I said it. I got mad then and told him it was her turn.

Dad got quiet again and asked me "What do you mean by that?" and I said I didn't know. Then he wanted me to tell him what I was mad about but I didn't know where to start. Then he got louder and said "I asked you a question young man!" and so I told him.

Only I didn't _tell_ him, tell him. I did what Grandma Reed is always telling Grandpa Reed he does - 'shot my mouth off'. I started with him not getting his promotion in time to make Mom happy and went on to how he's always working because he doesn't want to see us and finished with how if he'd just get a different job things would go back to the way they were and we could live in our old house and I could have my old friends instead of being in a house I hate and going to a school I hate.

I thought I'd get a spanking then. I don't get them a lot but I knew from the look on his face that Dad was really mad. He didn't spank me, though. He stood up real slow and said "No matter what you think, Jimmy, this is the way it has to be so you'd better get used to it." Then he told me to pick up all my toys and put them in the toy box and he took it and my box of puzzles (with this book) and took them away. I think he put them in Mom's room.

When he came back he told me I could have my stuff when I apologized to Mom. He was walking out of my room when I yelled at him that I hated him too. He stopped for a second and then said "I'm sorry to hear that" and closed the door. I would've thrown something at it but he took everything away that won't break.

I stayed mad for a long time and then I apologized to Mom. She gave me my stuff back and told me I should apologize to Dad too but I won't.

* * *

February 14, 1979

We made Valentines in school for Valentine's Day. We only had time to make one but I needed two. My teacher asked me why but I didn't want to tell her so I just left the one I made at school.

* * *

February 21, 1979

Mom asked me today what I'm going to do for the school holiday. I haven't apologized to Dad yet so I know I won't be visiting him. I told her I'd probably read a book. She thought I was being funny but I wasn't.

Dad phoned today. I know because Mom asked if I wanted to talk to him and I said no. I spend a lot of time in my room now but I don't care. I don't have any friends at school to hang out with and Mikey's a baby so I'd rather be in here. Sometimes Mikey comes in my room and plays with his toys beside me which is okay but sometimes he wants me to play with him so I tell him no and then he cries and Mom gets mad at me and then I get mad at Mikey and tell him to go away which makes him cry more. I don't want to make him cry but he's a pain.

Mom asked me if I wanted to visit with Uncle Pete and Aunt Judy and David but I said no. One of them is going to want me to talk about stuff and I don't want to. I just want to be left alone.


	4. Chapter 4

March 10, 1979

This was supposed to be our weekend with Dad. He came over but I stayed in my room so he took Mikey and left. I got up to look out the window and he had this look on his face. It's the same look he has every time he leaves here. It makes him look mad but it's really his sad face. I want to tell him I'm sorry for what I said but every time I think of doing it, I remember him saying that this was the way things have to be and I get mad all over again. I'm pretty sure if he loved us he'd fix things.

Uncle Pete came over today and made me come out for a drive with him in his new car. It's the kind with the top that goes down so you can have the sun on you. We drove back to Venice Beach and he asked me if I wanted to sit in the sand and talk but I said no. I only said four words the whole time we were out - I counted. I said "It's cool" when he asked if I liked his new car, "No" when he asked if I wanted to sit on the beach and "Yeah" when he asked if I was ready to go home. He did lots of talking, though.

One thing he said I've been thinking about since I got home. He told me to remember that even though my dad is a detective he's still a policeman and it's a dangerous job and I shouldn't wait to say what I want to say. I'm still trying to figure that one out.

* * *

April 14, 1979

It's Saturday and it's raining. Mikey is playing cars on the floor in my room. I've been thinking about what Uncle Pete said and I think I get what he meant. He meant that I should talk to my Dad because if I don't and something happens to him I'll be sorry. I don't mean that if I don't talk to him something bad will happen. I mean that if something happens and I didn't talk to him I'll be sad forever because I didn't talk to him when I could've.

Maybe his job being dangerous is why Mom wanted him to get a different one. I guess when he comes next weekend I'll go this time and I'll ask him.

* * *

April 23, 1979

Dad almost forgot me. I guess I can't really blame him. I've been saying no to going to his place on the weekend for so long that he just came in and got Mikey and started to walk out. Mom stopped him and told him I wanted to come too. It's the first time in a long time he drove away from the house without that look on his face.

I waited until Mikey went to sleep before I asked him my question about his job. He told me lots of stuff about it and why him and Mom aren't together anymore. Some of it didn't make sense but I got most of it. I asked him about what Uncle Pete said about policemen being policemen before they get their badges and he tried to explain that too but it didn't make sense to me. I guess it's one of those grownup things. One thing he said that I really didn't understand was that him and Mom still love each other but they can't be together anymore. He wouldn't explain it to me either. He just said I'll understand when I get older.

I did apologize to him though. And I told him I don't really hate him. He was happy about that.

* * *

May 5, 1979

This was supposed to be our weekend with Dad but he's got to work again. I'm a little mad about that but not as much as before. I guess I'm getting bigger. Mom says we can go next weekend.

* * *

May 11, 1979

Dad just left with Mikey. I can't go because that stupid Jerry Pinkerton called my dad a dirty pig and I punched him in the mouth. One of his friends jumped on me and hit me in the head and I got really mad and knocked him off and then beat the tar out of him. The principal called my mom but she has a new job and couldn't leave work so she called my dad but he was out working so she called Uncle Pete. It was his day off so he came and got me and brought me home. I'm suspended from school until next Wednesday. I'm grounded but it's kind of weird. Dad said I couldn't go with him and Mikey but Uncle Pete was going to come pick me up tomorrow. Maybe he wants to have another talk.

* * *

May 13, 1979

Uncle Pete didn't want to talk. He took me to where he works and showed me cool things like where they fingerprint bad guys and where they take their picture and stuff but then he took me to a place called 'juvenile hall' where they take the bad kids who are too young to go to grownup jail. I didn't like it there. All the kids have to sleep together in one big room with wire grates on the windows and there's always someone watching them - even when they sleep! And some of them even have a grownup go with them when they go to the bathroom! The playground has a big fence around it with rings of wire on top and there's no jungle gym or slides or anything. Just a big square with grass and dirt. There isn't even a tree. Everyone has to eat when they're told to and once a day someone comes in and goes through their stuff and takes away things they can't have. The only time they have any fun is when they go into this place where they can do crafts. There's also a library with books but they have to take them back to the big room to read and if it gets lost they're in big trouble.

There's also a big room where some of the kids go to sit around in chairs and talk to a grownup called a 'counsellor'. That's a person they have to tell what their problems are and why they're in there and what they can do to make sure they don't have to come back. I looked it up and then sort of figured out what it meant. The counsellor also tells them what they think the kid should do to make sure he doesn't come back. I figured out why Uncle Pete took me there when a couple of kids said they were in there for getting into fights. Not little fights like the one I was in but big fights with knives and chains and stuff. I told Uncle Pete I wouldn't do that but he said a few years ago those kids would've said the same thing. That's when I told him what Jerry Pinkerton said that started it and how the other kid jumped on me. Uncle Pete said people call policemen pigs all the time and if they could deal with it without getting into a fight, so could I.

I've been thinking about that trip ever since Uncle Pete brought me home. I don't want to end up like those kids.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Another bit of trivia - the birthday I chose for Jimmy Jr isn't totally random. It's the air date for the episode _"Log 63: Baby"_... November 8, 1969

Sorry for the delays in posting. Hopefully I'll be able to step it up a bit in the near future.

* * *

June 10, 1979

It's Dad's weekend but he's coming here instead. I guess I forgot to say Mikey's birthday is the 10th of June - today. We're having a barbecue and Uncle Pete's bringing Aunt Judy and David. I'm supposed to be having a nap because I'm tired after blowing up a ton of balloons.

* * *

June 13, 1979

Mikey may be older but he's not any less annoying. He took George out of his tank and now I can't find him.

* * *

June 14, 1979

I found George. He's dead. I hate Mikey.

* * *

June 19, 1979

I don't hate Mikey - but I'm still mad at him. George got into the living room and died of dehydration. That means he didn't stay wet enough. There's a small pool in his tank that he likes to swim in and without it he just dried up and died. The worst part is the sitter found him and started freaking out and screaming. Mom got her calmed down but I don't know if she's going to quit. I hope not. Mikey really likes her.

Other than the screaming bit, I think she's kind of cool too.

* * *

July 20, 1979

Starting this weekend we're going camping with Dad for two whole weeks. I asked Mom to come but she said she had to work. I even told her Uncle Pete and Aunt Judy and David were coming for a week too but she said no. I kept at her about it but she started to get mad so I quit. I don't want her mad enough to ground me from the trip.

She wouldn't come last year, either, when I asked. Or the year before that. Kind of makes me wonder if she really has to work or doesn't want to come.

* * *

July 21, 1979

I'm writing this using the light from the campfire. Uncle Pete saw me bring it out but he just smiled a little bit and walked away. He didn't even try to read it.

Mom had that same look on her face when we left that Dad used to when I wouldn't come with him to visit and he had to leave with just Mikey. I'm going to ask Dad about that look. Or maybe Uncle Pete.

* * *

August 7, 1979

I forgot all about this journal again. We did a bunch of stuff on our camping trip and it was lots of fun. Even Mikey enjoyed himself. Uncle Pete and Aunt Judy and David left after the first week and then it was just me and Dad and Mikey. We got to see some deer and go fishing and swimming and Mikey got a leech on him and he cried. I got one too but I didn't cry. I don't think they look cool anymore though. They're just plain gross.

I was so busy doing stuff I forgot to ask Dad about Mom's funny look. I'll ask him next time I see him.

* * *

August 12, 1979

I asked Dad tonight. He told me Mom is still sad about us not being together anymore so she doesn't want to come camping because it would be like pretending everything was back to the way it was before. I didn't think that was such a bad thing but he said it wouldn't be fair to Mom to pretend for two weeks and then have to split up all over again. I guess I can see what he means. It sure made me rethink our camping trip, though. I realized that I've been doing that a little bit every time.

I'm not going to ask her to come anymore. I'll make sure she knows I'm going to miss her but I'll stop asking. And our camping trips are just going to be our trips with Dad. No more pretending.

* * *

August 27, 1979

Mom keeps asking me if I feel alright. I'm not sick but I don't feel 'all right'. I feel 'all wrong'. School's starting again next week and I don't want to go. I hate the thought of seeing Jerry Pinkerton and his stupid friends again. I just want to stay in my room.

* * *

September 3, 1979

School starts tomorrow. I don't want to go. I think I'll tell Mom I'm sick.

* * *

September 4, 1979

Mom didn't believe me. I told her I was sick and I thought she was going to phone the doctor but she called Dad instead. He came and got me and took me to school. He told me he knew why I didn't want to go but he also knew I was a better person than to let someone like Jerry Pinkerton get to me. Then he told me about a guy he used to work with named Ed Wells. He said that under all his noise Ed Wells was an okay guy, he just didn't know how to talk to people.

I don't know if Jerry Pinkerton is an okay guy or not but he left me alone today so I'll leave him alone.

* * *

September 24, 1979

Jerry Pinkerton cornered me in the locker room today. I thought he was going to start another fight but he just wanted to talk to me. I think he wants to be friends but I don't want to be friends with him. I keep calling him 'Ed' in my head.

* * *

October 5, 1979

We're supposed to go to Dad's this weekend. Monday is a holiday so we get to spend an extra day with him. Mom said he wants to take us to Disneyland. I wanted to remind her that Grandpa and Grandma Reed already took us there but I didn't say anything. She probably already knows that.

She asked me again if I feel alright because I didn't get excited about Disneyland. I told her I'm fine but I don't think she believes me. It's hard to get excited about seeing some dumb mouse.

* * *

October 30, 1979

Dad's coming to get Mikey to go trick-or-treating tomorrow. I told Mom I wanted to stay home with her and hand out candy. I don't really want to hand out candy but trick-or-treating is for babies.

* * *

November 7, 1979

Mom asked me what I want for my birthday. I told her I don't want anything but she kept asking so I finally told her I want a new book. When she asked me what book I just said "Uncle Pete knows" and left it at that.

I know she called the school to ask about my grades because the principal called me into his office and told me. He also said she was worried about me and that's why she asked. I think he thought I'd be mad when I found out but I don't really care. My grades are fine. I'm fine. I'm just what Grandma Reed calls 'out of sorts'. She (Grandma Reed) says it happens sometimes and eventually things get back together - that's why it's called 'sorting things out'.

I hope it happens soon because this is getting to be a real bummer.

* * *

November 9, 1979

Everyone came over for my birthday. Mom made chocolate cake. It used to be my favorite but I kind of wish she'd made vanilla. I didn't tell her though. I just smiled and said thanks. Smiling makes my face feel funny.

Uncle Pete brought me another journal. I knew he'd understand what I meant. Dad brought me a pair of running shoes. Not sneakers like I already have but actual running shoes. He told me that when he was in school he used to run a lot. He also played sports but he figured I'd like running better. He said when he comes to pick me up this weekend I'm supposed to bring them with me and we'll go running together. It's supposed to be Mom's weekend but Mikey's staying with Mom while I go with Dad because it's also Veteran's Day on Monday. Dad's going to bring me home after the service.

* * *

December 9, 1979

I forgot about writing in this for a whole month. I've been running every day. Dad was right - I love it. Once he taught me about what you do and don't do about running (like always warming up and cooling down after) and then showed me how to do it properly so that I don't hurt myself, I just took off. It's like flying only without leaving the ground.

When I'm running things don't bother me like they do when I'm at home. My 'out of sorts' sort themselves out when I'm running. I don't know how else to explain it but I finally feel good when I run.

My Dad is really smart. Smarter than Uncle Pete even.

* * *

January 12, 1980

I forgot again.

For Christmas my dad got me another pair of runners. They're too big right now but he says by the time they fit I'll have worn out the ones I have now. Mom got me clothes to wear for running in cold weather which is good because it's gotten really cold and running with a bunch of clothes on is tough.

We were supposed to go to Dad's for the weekend but he called Mom a few days ago and said he had to do some 'under cover' work. I'm guessing that's different from his regular work because Mom looks really worried all the time. Aunt Judy came over to spend some time with her and Mikey, and David and I went running. I didn't really want to say no because I like David but all he wants to do is jog and talk when I just want to run. I stayed with him though. He's pretty much the closest thing to a friend I've got and I don't see him that much anymore.

* * *

January 22, 1980

Dad's undercover thing is done (it's supposed to be one word not two). He came over tonight to tell Mom. She cried and gave him a big hug and then she got mad at him.

I'm never getting married.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Some people might think 11 years old is a little young to get into running. I would tend to agree but I have known a kid who was into it at that age. Just FYI.

* * *

February 12, 1980

Mr. Haskell, the gym teacher, saw me running outside at recess. He stopped me and told me if I want to run in the gym after school I can. He also said I can run the track around the football field when it warms up as long as they're not having a game or practicing. I don't know if I'll run in the gym. It's warmer but I like the feel of wind on my face.

* * *

February 19, 1980

School's out for break so I went and ran on the track today. I don't know if I like it better or not. It's nice not having to worry about the cracks in the sidewalk (or dog poop) but I have to go around lots of times before I feel like I'm done. At least when I run at home I've got it planned out so I only go around once before I'm done and I wind up back at my house. I'll have to think about it.

Mom got a promotion at her work. She seems a little happier. She even brought pizza home for supper. It had peppers on it but she said I could pick them off. I ate them anyway because I didn't want to hurt her feelings. Besides, it's been a long time since we had pizza at home.

* * *

March 10, 1980

Got to use the runners I got for Christmas today. The old ones split along the side when I was running with Dad this weekend. Mikey stayed home with Mom because he's got chicken pox. Mom said he caught it from some little girl at preschool. Dad says I should've stayed home so I could catch it too because it's better to catch it and get over it than never catch it and get sick when you're older.

I don't want to catch it because if I get sick like Mikey I'll be itchy and covered in spots and too sick to go running.

* * *

March 12, 1980

Stayed home from school today. I'm covered in spots and itchy like all get-out. It's all Mikey's fault.

* * *

March 12, 1980 - later

I changed my mind. It's all that little girl's fault. Mikey's really sick. Mom's going to take him to the doctor and Aunt Judy is going to come stay with me.

* * *

March 17, 1980

The doctor kept Mikey in the hospital for a while. He got really sick where he was throwing up and everything and they got worried he was going to dehydrate like George did. I got really worried about him but Uncle Pete came and stayed with me to make me feel better. He said Dad would've come but he was with Mom and Mikey at the hospital which got me really upset and I started crying like a baby. Uncle Pete said it was okay, though, and reminded me that grownups cry too so I didn't feel so stupid. Mom and Dad brought Mikey home last night but I was sleeping so I didn't get to see my dad or say goodbye to Uncle Pete. Mom said the doctor told them Mikey got chicken pox and 'flu together and that's why he was so sick.

I'm still covered in itchy spots but there aren't as many now. I can hardly wait until I'm better enough to go running again.

* * *

March 20, 1980

Mom says I have to get all my homework done first but I'm allowed to go running again. I tried to get Mikey to come with me but she says he's still too little.

* * *

April 1, 1980

Mr. Haskell asked me if I wanted to be on the baseball team. At first I thought it was an April Fool's joke but he really meant it. I need to find the baseball glove Uncle Pete gave me.

* * *

April 15, 1980

We had our first game after school today. Mom came with Uncle Pete and Aunt Judy. David was on a date with some girl but he came by later. Dad was there too but he was wearing his suit and had to leave by the fourth inning. He called Mom after to find out who won though. We lost but I got to first base and then Greg Mannerly hit a home run and I got to run around the bases.

That was the best part.

* * *

April 18, 1980

I'm writing this real quick because I have to go to school. We've got another baseball game tonight and Uncle Pete stopped by to give me one of his old baseball gloves. He said there wasn't enough time to break in a new one but he saw my old one was too small so I can use his until I can get another one. I think I'd rather use his.

* * *

April 19, 1980

We won the game last night by 5 points. I didn't get a home run but I did hit a double. Mom was there with Mikey but they were alone. Dad had to work, I guess. I don't know where Uncle Pete was but Mom said she thought it was his and Aunt Judy's anniversary so I suppose I can't get upset with them. David was probably on another date.

* * *

May 5, 1980

It was supposed to be Dad's weekend but he had to work. Not much has happened in the last while. We had a few more games but we lost all of them. We mostly have practice games now. The coach makes me play outfield all the time because I'm one of the tallest kids on the team.

The only interesting thing that's happened was Jerry Pinkerton hasn't been at school lately. One of the kids he hangs out with was talking in the hallway and I heard him say that Jerry was sent to reform school. I asked Uncle Pete what that meant and he said it was the same as juvenile hall. According to that kid, Jerry got caught stealing comic books from the corner store. It wasn't the first time he got caught doing something like that, either.

To hear that kid talk, you'd think they were worst enemies instead of buddies. I'm glad I don't have friends like that.

* * *

June 11, 1980

Mikey's four now. I guess he's not so bad for a little brother. He tries to play ball with me and doesn't get into my stuff as much.

Uncle Pete and Aunt Judy came over for his birthday party along with a bunch of kids from his preschool. David has a job now so he couldn't come and Dad's working again. Uncle Pete says it's another undercover job so he (Dad) doesn't know when he'll be able to visit again. Mom's worried but she told Aunt Judy she didn't need to stay because she'll be alright.

I hope when he comes to visit this time she just hugs him and doesn't get mad again. It makes me think she's gone bonkers (I got that from Greg Mannerly. It sounds cool.)

* * *

June 17, 1980

Dad's gone.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** A big shout-out to all the guest reviewers. I appreciate every word. I'd thank you individually but since that's not possible, I'll just leave you all this note.

* * *

July 25, 1980

Today is the day Dad was supposed to be coming to get us for our two week camping trip. A couple of times I had to stop myself from looking out the window to watch for him. It's like part of my brain doesn't know that he won't be here anymore.

* * *

August 31, 1980

School starts again day after tomorrow. I don't want to go. I told Mom but she said the best thing would be for me to go back to doing regular stuff. I don't think so but I'll go to school anyway.

* * *

September 10, 1980

School is okay. Greg came up to me on the first day and told me he was sorry about my dad. He said his dad is a fireman and he's had to go to a couple of funerals so he kind of knows how I feel. I wanted to yell at him and tell him he has no idea how I feel but Greg's an okay guy so I just said thanks.

It's funny (weird funny, not ha-ha funny) that Uncle Pete gave me this book to write stuff in but I can't write about my dad. I guess I'm getting better because for a while I couldn't write anything in here but now I can - just not about my dad.

Mom made me go to a therapist for a while. They're like counselors only not for people in juvenile hall. You're supposed to talk to them and let them know how you're feeling. I didn't talk much to mine but I did mention this book. He said if I wasn't going to talk to him then I should write in this book more. I tried to write about Dad but I couldn't. The therapist said it was okay for now but I should keep trying. He said I'd feel better if I could get it all out.

* * *

October 14, 1980

Jerry Pinkerton is back in school. He's different now - he dresses tough and acts meaner - but he still came up to me in the hallway when I was getting my stuff for gym out of my locker. He said he heard about my dad and he was sorry but he was a cop so it was bound to happen. I just looked at him hard and he walked away.

I really wanted to punch him but I didn't.

* * *

December 22, 1980

I asked Mom if Uncle Pete and Aunt Judy and David were coming for Christmas. She said no. I haven't seen Uncle Pete for a long time.

I thought maybe something had happened to him too but Mom said he was fine. He's just not coming around much anymore. The more I think about it, the more I think it's a good thing. Seeing Uncle Pete wakes up that part of my brain that hopes Dad is coming too and I don't want that. It also reminds me that Uncle Pete is still a policeman and then what Jerry Pinkerton said comes back and I get mad all over again.

I wanted to go running today but my shoes don't fit anymore.

* * *

December 26, 1980

Mom gave me running shoes for Christmas along with a bunch of other stuff. I just put them in my closet. Somehow it doesn't seem right for me to do stuff that makes me happy.

Uncle Pete and Aunt Judy and David sent presents too but we didn't open them. Mom put them away and said we could open them later.

* * *

January 1, 1981

Today is the first day of a new year. Mom says that means we should look forward to the days ahead and plan for new things. I asked her if that meant we were going to move again. She said no but it looked like she was thinking about it.

* * *

June 8, 1981

I forgot about this journal again. Or rather I didn't forget exactly but Mom's been making me go back to see the therapist again and I've been talking to him instead of writing in this.

School's out for the year. Mom and I sat down last night and had a big talk about what's going to happen next year. I'll be starting junior high and Mikey will be starting kindergarten. She asked me if I thought we should move to a different house this summer. I told her I'd think about it.

* * *

August 12, 1981

We're all moved into the new place. As soon as I told Mom I thought it might be a good idea she got on the phone with a realtor and made an appointment to look at houses. This one isn't as nice as our first house but it isn't as small as the last one either. My room is a bit bigger and I have a bathroom that I share with Mikey. His room is on the other side of the bathroom. There's a main bathroom for everyone to use and then there's part of one next to Mom's room. She calls it an 'ensuite'. At first I thought it was spelled 'on sweet' and that confused me but Mom explained it to me. At least I didn't have to look it up. I've been doing that so much lately my dictionary is starting to fall apart.

This house has a big kitchen and an actual dining room. There's a living room too but no den so I've still got all my stuff in my room. I don't mind though. After moving a couple of times I don't have a lot of stuff to take up space anyhow.

Mikey is six now and he's actually been pretty good. Mom says now that he'll be going to school she won't have to spend as much for a sitter anymore so we'll have a bit more money. I've got a paper route so I can buy my own stuff now - not that I buy much at all. Right now everything I earn goes into my piggy bank but Mom says she's got a day off coming up and when that happens we'll go to the bank so I can open a proper bank account.

Speaking of schools, we went out on the weekend to take a look at our new schools. Mikey's is pretty close by but mine is a ways away so I'll be taking a bus. I've never taken a bus before. It stops at the end of our block, though, so as long as I get on the right one at school to go home I should be alright.

Greg Mannerly called and asked if I wanted to go to a movie last Saturday. Mom said it was alright as I was using my own money and Greg's mom was going to drive us there and pick us up. When we got to the theater Greg wanted to see_ Dragonslayer_. We're both pretty big for our ages and probably could've gotten in but I knew my mom wouldn't like it if I did so I talked him into watching the new Bugs Bunny movie instead. I'm glad I did. It was pretty good.

* * *

September 12, 1981

The first week of school went okay. No big fuss made of me being there and no one teasing me. I didn't even have any trouble finding my bus. My teachers are alright and the work seems pretty easy so far. Mom said my dad was really good in school and that's probably where I get it from.

She also said Uncle Pete called. He wanted to know if I wanted to get together this weekend and do something. I've been thinking about it but every time I do I picture him on that day when he came to the house. I don't think I want to see him. Not yet, anyway.

* * *

September 30, 1981

Uncle Pete called again. Mom tried to get me to talk to him but I can't. I talked to my therapist and he said it was up to me. I told Mom no.

* * *

October 30, 1981

I think Mom feels the way I do about Uncle Pete. He called today and asked if she wanted him to come by and take Mikey trick-or-treating and she said not this time. I don't know what else they talked about but Mom was on the phone a long time and when she hung up she said Uncle Pete said to call him if I ever wanted to talk but he won't be phoning anymore. I wish I felt bad about that and I sort of do but not bad enough to call him.


	8. Chapter 8

November 11, 1981

Today is Veterans Day. I wish my dad was still here so we could go to the service together. I think next year I'm going to go to the Memorial Day service for him. I don't think I'll tell Mom though. I don't think she'd understand.

* * *

December 23, 1981

Christmas will be here in a couple of days. I told my therapist I was still really sad on holidays without my dad around. He said it was normal. He also asked me if I wrote in here what happened yet. I told my first outright lie and said yes. I don't think he believed me.

* * *

January 1, 1982

It's just barely 1982. Mom thinks I fell asleep hours ago. I've made a New Year's Resolution to write down what happened before my next visit with the therapist. At least then what I said will be the truth even if it is a little late.

* * *

January 6, 1982

I can't put this off any longer. My next appointment with the therapist is tomorrow so I have to write this down.

I already said that it happened on June 17 in 1980. What I didn't say and what my therapist said is important that I _do_ say is that Dad isn't just gone. He's dead.

Mikey's birthday is on June 10th, I already mentioned that. So he was four years and a week old. For his birthday he got the game _Mouse Trap_ and we were in the living room putting together the plastic bits that go in the middle for the trap - you know, the ramps and the net and stuff. Mom was making supper in the kitchen. I remember she'd just opened the oven door to put the meatloaf in because I looked up when she did it and I remember thinking 'not meatloaf again'. We used to have it a lot back then. The doorbell rang and I told her I'd go get it. Mikey was starting to get on my nerves because everything I put together he was starting to take apart again and I knew if I tried to stop him he'd cry but if I didn't I'd get mad.

Anyway, I opened up the door and Uncle Pete was standing there in his policeman's uniform. He didn't smile and say 'hey sport' like he usually did. He just looked at me and said "Hey Jimmy. Where's your mom?" I was about to answer him when he looked behind me and I heard my mom make a noise kind of like the one time she was making carrots and accidentally cut her finger with the big knife.

I turned around to look at her just as Uncle Pete came into the house. She was standing in the doorway to the kitchen with a towel in her hands. I really thought she'd cut her finger then but I found out later she was just drying off her hands with the towel, she didn't cut herself.

Uncle Pete said "Jean" and then Mom dropped the towel on the floor and screamed. I'd never heard her do that before and it scared me really, really bad. Uncle Pete ran over to her just as she started to fall to the floor. She was still screaming and then Mikey started crying and screaming so I ran over to where he was. Uncle Pete picked up my mom and carried her into her room and kicked the door shut with his foot.

I still didn't know what was going on but I knew it was really bad. I sat beside Mikey on the couch and hugged him like Mom does when he falls and hurts himself. The noise from Mom's room stopped around then so Mikey stopped screaming too but he kept crying.

When Uncle Pete didn't come out, I told Mikey we should go outside and play before the sun went down. We had a really strict rule that we couldn't be outside when it got dark even if we were only in the yard. I know now it was because where we lived wasn't a very good part of town. At least, not as good as our first house. Mom was always really worried something would happen to us if we weren't inside after dark.

There was a little porch on that house - just big enough for a swing. I went out and sat in it and a little while later Mikey came out and sat on the other end. I figured he'd gone to get some of his Matchbox cars because he was carrying a couple of them in each hand. He only sat on the swing for a minute before he got down and started playing with the cars on the floor. I'd been pushing the swing with my foot but I had to stop when he did that. Like I said, the porch was really small.

I don't know how long we were out there. The sky was starting to get a little darker when this car drove up and Aunt Judy got out and ran up the steps into the house. A couple of minutes later another car came and this time our doctor got out and went inside. Mikey and I stayed there a while longer but then he told me he was hungry.

No one had come out to tell us supper was ready so I told Mikey to pick up his cars and come inside with me. He didn't like it but he did what I said without pitching a fit. Sometimes he can really kick up a ruckus when he doesn't want to do something.

We went into the kitchen and I told him to play with his cars on the table. Someone had shut the oven off so I knew we weren't going to have a proper supper so I got out some bread and bologna (had to look up how that was spelled) and made us some sandwiches. It was supposed to be for my school lunches but I figured no one would care. I put some catsup on Mikey's sandwich (he likes it that way - gross) and some mustard on mine. I couldn't pour the milk jug but I got a couple of glasses and some water from the tap. Mikey didn't say anything about not having milk to drink. I guess he could tell something was going on too.

When we were done I took Mikey down to his room and I got one of my books. He sat on the floor playing with his Matchbox and I tried to read my book. I couldn't do it, though. I was trying to figure out what was going on and wasn't getting a lot read.

I think I knew already that something had happened to Dad but I didn't know what it could be except that it was bad. After a while I heard someone leave and then Uncle Pete came to the door of Mikey's room and looked at us.

I don't want to write anymore but I know if I stop now I won't finish this.

Anyway. Uncle Pete stood in the doorway for a little while just watching us and then he came in and sat on Mikey's bed. I remember hearing the way his belt creaked when he sat down, just like Dad's used to when I was little and he'd stop at home while he was working so he could give me a goodnight kiss. Uncle Pete coughed a little bit and asked if we got enough to eat.

I looked at Mikey. He nodded so I did too and then I looked at Uncle Pete. His eyes were red and he had that mad/sad look on his face that Dad used to have. I knew then that whatever it was it was really, really bad. He looked like he was trying to say something he didn't want to say.

I felt like I had to say something so I asked him "Dad's not coming anymore, is he?" I don't know why I asked him that. Up till then I just thought Dad had been hurt really bad but when I opened my mouth to talk, that's what came out. Uncle Pete had the same look on his face that Jerry Pinkerton did when I pushed him down in the playground - like I'd just hit him when he wasn't expecting it. After a second or so he shook his head.

Mikey asked Uncle Pete if he'd play cars with him. He didn't really get what was going on, I guess. Uncle Pete said 'not today Mikey' and then stood up. He was still looking at me. I got up too and Uncle Pete started to reach out for me but I didn't want him to touch me. I wanted to be left alone. I slipped past him and went into my room and shut the door. He could make sure Mikey went to bed or Aunt Judy could or whoever - I didn't care.

I started crying really hard then. I cried so hard I thought I was going to get sick but I didn't. I just curled up into a little ball on my bed and cried and cried until I fell asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** A word of warning... I'm not entirely familiar with the educational system of the US so I may have made a couple of errors. I did a ton of research on it but may have goofed somewhere. If so, I apologize.

* * *

January 7, 1982

I saw my therapist today. I told him that when I said I'd written down what happened I really hadn't but I did it last night. He said it was good that I told him and asked me how much I wrote. I said 'four pages' but that wasn't what he meant. He meant how much of what happened did I write down. I told him and he said I should try to write what happened next. I don't know what good it'll do but I'll do it. Not now, though. I'm tired and I just want to go to sleep.

* * *

January 10, 1982

I still have to write more about what happened but I think I'll do it next weekend.

* * *

January 16, 1982

Okay. Here's what happened the next day, June 18th.

I woke up and the house was really quiet. I went to the bathroom and then checked on Mikey but he was still sleeping. Mom's bedroom door was shut so I figured she was still asleep too so I decided to go get a bowl of cereal.

About halfway there I remembered all of the stuff that happened and decided I wasn't really hungry. I stopped in the living room and turned around to go back to my room when Aunt Judy came out of the kitchen. She was really nice, asking me how I was and if I was hungry. I said no and asked her if she'd been there all night and she said she had. She told me she slept on the couch. I thought that was really weird because our couch is kind of lumpy but I didn't say it.

I started for my room again but Aunt Judy stopped me and asked me to sit on the couch. I did and then she sat beside me. Neither of us said anything for a few minutes. I finally asked her if Mom was still sleeping and she said she was and that the doctor had given her something last night to help her go to sleep because she was so upset. That's when she asked me if I knew what was going on.

I started putting away the Mouse Trap game Mikey and I had started the night before. Aunt Judy asked me again so I said "Dad's gone" and kind of shrugged. She asked me if I knew what happened. I didn't want to talk to her so I said "Uncle Pete told us" and picked up the game box to go put it away. Then she put her arm around me like she was going to give me a hug so I stood up and walked over to the shelf where we keep the games. I didn't want her to touch me. Not because it was her but because I didn't want to be touched.

Aunt Judy said that Grandpa and Grandma Reed were going to be over later and that when Mom woke up some other people were going to stop by. I asked her who was coming but she said she didn't know most of them except Uncle Pete and Sergeant MacDonald were going to be there. I thought that was really weird because I knew Sergeant MacDonald had quit just after I started school but I figured he was coming because him and Dad had been friends.

Right then Mikey came out of his room and headed straight for Aunt Judy. He climbed up on her lap and asked her where Mom was. I didn't want to hang around anymore so I headed for my room. I was glad Aunt Judy didn't call me back because I would've had to stay there - Mom and Dad say it's disrespectful not to come when a grownup calls you. She must've known I didn't want to be there though because she didn't say anything.

Mom's calling me and I have to go do my paper route. I'll write more tomorrow.

* * *

January 20, 1982

I meant to get back to this but while I was doing my route Greg showed up and wanted to play catch for a while.

Anyway, later on Grandma and Grandpa Reed showed up and then Mom got up and the house started filling up with people. I stayed in my room for the most part. Every once in a while I'd get up and look out the window to see if I could figure out who was there by the cars outside. There was a bunch of cars I didn't know but I remember seeing Grandpa Reed's car, Uncle Pete's car (his own car with the top that goes down, not his police car), Aunt Judy's car and a truck that I think belonged to Sergeant MacDonald. Police cars would show up on and off but they didn't stay very long. I think Steve Price's car was there for a bit, too, but I can't be sure.

Grandma came to talk to me once. She sat on my bed while I sat at my desk. I was pretending to do my homework. She said the school would understand if I didn't get my work done 'under the circumstances' (that means that they wouldn't give me heck because of what happened). I told her I wanted to do it. Then she started saying stuff like "You're such a good boy" and "Your daddy was so proud of you" - I wish sometimes I could just say what I want and not have to worry about being grounded or missing supper. I wanted to tell her I didn't want to talk about my dad and to go away and leave me alone. I didn't, though. That would've been disrespectful. I just nodded my head a couple of times.

Then Grandma asked me to look at her so I did. She looked like she'd been crying. She said I couldn't stay in my room forever. I asked her why not and she said because it wasn't good for me and I'd have to come out to go to the funeral anyway. I just shrugged. Then she said my mom would like to see me and I said she could come to my room if she wanted to see me. I guess not wanting to be disrespectful wore off pretty quick because Grandma said that wasn't very nice and I said I didn't care. When she asked me why I said it was Mom's fault that her and Dad weren't together anymore and if they had been, he wouldn't be dead now.

I didn't get any supper that night, either.

* * *

February 1, 1982

My therapist says I need to write more. I told him I would but not when. I don't like thinking about that stuff. I don't know what good it'll do, anyway - Dad's gone and writing isn't going to make him come back.

I will say that I wound up staying in my room a lot, though. I was pretty mad at my mom back then. I'm not mad at her now but we don't hang out a lot either. I do my stuff and she does hers and we pretty much only see each other at supper and when I'm going to bed. Sometimes we talk about stuff but not for very long or sometimes we all watch TV together. She spends a lot of time with Mikey which is fine by me. He's a lot younger than I am and needs more attention.

* * *

February 22, 1982

I saw a police car driving down the street today. I don't know why but it made me really, really mad. I'll have to ask my therapist about that on Friday.

* * *

February 26, 1982

So I went to see my therapist after school. I guess I should say his name is Howard Blankenship. I was calling him Mr. Blankenship but he said since we see so much of each other and I tell him personal things that I don't tell other people I should probably call him Howard. He said he wouldn't tell my mom that I'm using his first name. When Mom's around he calls me Jimmy and I call him Mr. Blankenship but when it's just us two he calls me Jim and I call him Howard.

Howard says I got mad when I saw the police car because I'm still upset about my dad which is normal. He also says because I associate my dad with policemen, everything about them will upset me. I told him Uncle Pete is a policeman. He said that's probably why I don't want to see him. I also told him the funeral had tons of policemen there but all he said was "There you are, then." I figure he meant that I'm mad at my dad for leaving and because he was a policeman, I just get mad at all of them. It kind of makes sense.

* * *

November 20, 1982

Wow. I forgot about this journal. I need to get a new one. This is the last page so there's not enough room for me to say what's been going on. I'll do all that when I get another book.

I will say I haven't been writing in this because I've mostly been talking to Howard about stuff. He's a pretty cool guy even if he does wear weird clothes. When Mom drops me off he comes out of his office wearing a suit jacket and a bow tie but when she leaves and we go inside he always puts on a ratty, brown sweater he calls a 'cardigan'. It's got holes in the elbows and one of the pockets is falling off. I asked him once why he didn't get a new one and he said it was because that one had history. Then I asked why he didn't get some of the holes fixed and he said he earned them all. Howard's pretty weird.

I'm in the eighth grade this year. One more year and I'll be in high school. Well, two more actually, since I just started grade eight. Mom says next year I'll be a freshman, whatever that is.

* * *

May 31, 1983

I've really been slacking off with this journal. Howard says it might be because I don't really need it anymore. I don't know if I do but it's nice to know it's there if I ever want to write things down.

I've got baseball practice in a bit so I'll keep this short. I forgot that I needed to get another book until yesterday when I was at the Memorial Day service. Because it was a holiday I had to wait until today to get one and then I could only do it at lunchtime. There's a small store right by my school that I could've gone to right after last bell to buy one and still catch my bus but I knew it didn't have any books like this. Instead I went to the little strip mall a few blocks away at lunchtime and bought one from the drug store there. I still had lots of time to eat lunch because I ran there and back. It felt good to run again. I haven't done it in a long time.

I just checked my running shoes that Mom gave me for Christmas a while back. They're too small. I don't want to get rid of them because they've never been used but I can't wear them. I'll have to ask Mom what I should do with them.


	10. Chapter 10

June 12, 1983

I don't talk to Howard that much anymore. He said we didn't have much to talk about so I could just make an appointment when I want to see him. I'll probably just write in here instead. I still feel kind of weird telling someone what I'm feeling anyway. I doubt my dad went to a therapist. If I were still talking to Uncle Pete I'd ask him but I haven't seen him since the funeral three years ago and I stopped talking to him before that so it's kind of too late.

Mom said to put the running shoes on the shelf in Mikey's closet. He can wear them when he gets bigger. I think it'll be a while, though. I'm getting kind of tall like my dad was but Mikey is small like my mom. She says he'll catch up to me but I doubt it. He's small all over not 'all elbows and knees' like Grandma Reed used to call me.

We haven't seen them in a while, either - Grandma and Grandpa Reed, I mean. Grandma got really sick a while ago and hasn't gotten much better so Grandpa stays home to look after her. Mom says they don't need a couple of kids underfoot so we don't go over there much and when we do we don't stay that long. I'm okay with that, though, because Grandma doesn't seem to know who we are when we talk to her.

Mom has a friend named Gloria she met at work. She comes over quite a bit to visit with Mom. Once when they were talking Mom told her about Grandma and said she has something called 'dementia' because of a stroke she had. I spent a lot of time looking those up. The way I figure it, the stroke was a kind of zap to the brain and when it happened some things got messed up so that's why she doesn't know us. Grandpa has to do pretty much everything for her and when he gets really tired he has a nurse come in to look after her. I only saw her once and never talked to her but when I asked Mom who she was she said it was a different person every time. I think that would be kind of hard on Grandma, not being able to get to know her nurse, but Mom says she wouldn't know the difference anyway.

One thing I forgot to mention was seeing my other grandparents. They're Mom's mom and dad and they were here for the funeral. They stayed for a week and then went back home. Mom says they live in Florida so we don't see them much. I think the only other time we saw them was when Mikey was born but I don't remember them visiting before that. Mom says they did but I was too little to remember. I'm kind of glad about that, actually. The whole time they were here they kept saying stuff to Mom like "We told you something like this was going to happen" and "It's too bad you two got a divorce because you would've been able to get death benefits". I just wanted to punch them both. Well, maybe not Grandpa so much because he didn't say that stuff but he didn't say much of anything. He just went along with everything Grandma said - and she said plenty. We were taught not to hit girls but she really, really made me want to. They're nothing like Grandma and Grandpa Reed.

* * *

December 25, 1983

It's Christmas. The third Christmas we've had since Dad died.

It's really hard to write that - "Dad died" - but it's totally true. When I was talking to Howard he said it was important that I say it and not keep avoiding it. He said that I was trying to fool myself into thinking one day he'd come back and everything would be fine which isn't true. I told him I used to do that after Mom and Dad split up, too, and Howard said pretending you never got hurt isn't the right way to try to heal. I guess he was pretty smart for a weird old guy.

I found out some stuff by listening to people talk during the reception after Dad's funeral. Apparently Dad's parents and Mom's parents never got along because Dad was a policeman. They (Mom's parents) thought policemen weren't the type of people my mom should be hanging around with - and she never should have married one. When Mom and Dad split up I guess they tried to get Mom to move us to Florida with them but Mom wouldn't go. They figure that's Dad's fault too.

Mom set them straight on a couple of points while they were here, though. The night of the funeral after Mikey and I went to bed I heard Mom having a fight with them. I couldn't hear everything they said but I did hear some stuff that made _me_ really mad so it's no wonder Mom got mad. She told them we weren't going to move now because me and Mikey were in schools we liked and Los Angeles is our home. Grandma said something about us only being there because of Dad but now that he was gone we didn't have to stay anymore. Mom said we weren't moving again and then she said all our friends are here. Grandpa said something I couldn't hear and Mom said "Not Jim's friends, Dad. My friends. Jimmy's friends. Mikey's friends." Then Grandma said something else and Mom said "At least here I know who our friends are." They left not long after that and Mom went to bed. This house has thicker walls than the last one so I'm not sure but I think she cried that night.

Weird. I started writing in here because I wanted to write about Christmas today but somehow it got changed into writing about back then.

* * *

January 2, 1984

I'm making a New Year's resolution to write something in here at least once a month. When I first started I said 'once a week' but that didn't work out so well so I'm trying for once a month. We'll see how it goes.

There was a bunch of big spaces last year where I didn't write anything down. I can't remember everything that I said or did but I'm going to outline it some anyway.

In the space between February and November, I went to school and played ball mostly. School let out the beginning of June and then we had Mikey's birthday (he's 7 now) and then we had Dad's barbecue.

I forgot to mention that before. The day after Dad died Uncle Pete, Aunt Judy and David came over and we had a barbecue. For a while we just visited but when it started to get dark outside Mom and Uncle Pete and Aunt Judy started talking about Dad. Not what happened but other stuff - things he said or did at home or at work or whatever. Then Mom cried and Aunt Judy hugged her and said they were sorry but Mom said it helped.

The next year we had another barbecue on the same day as Dad died. Mom didn't say anything about it being Dad's barbecue but I thought it was a little weird because Mom doesn't like to use the barbecue - she says everything gets burned. It was different that time because it was just the three of us but it was kind of fun.

The next summer I counted the days and sure enough, Mom said we were going to have a barbecue right when I figured she would - on the 17th. I figured out that the barbecue was what my teachers call an 'anniversary'. As in, we would probably have a barbecue every year on June 17th.

Last year I thought it would be great if I could help Mom because she really doesn't like barbecues at all so I asked Greg's dad if he could tell me how to use one. I started really early though because I figured it would take a while to go over everything I had to learn. Mr. Mannerly surprised me. Instead of talking about it, he showed me how to do everything - and I mean _everything - _from cleaning off the grill to setting up the charcoal to cooking. He also showed me where you can safely put a barbecue and where you should stand while you're cooking (did I mention Mr. Mannerly is a fireman? That's where he got all that stuff from). Greg said it was the most barbecues in one summer that they'd ever had because every time I went over to visit Greg, Mr. Mannerly would say "Lois," (that's Greg's mom's name) "I think we'll barbecue tonight. Jimmy - get out the grill."

Anyway, I learned a lot from him and sure enough, on June 17th I came home after school to find Mom getting food ready to cook on the barbecue. I went out and got the grill and put it where it would be safe like Mr. Mannerly showed me, and then I took the grate off and cleaned it and filled the barbecue with charcoal and tinder and lit it just the way I'd learned. Then I went back in and told Mom it would be ready in a bit. I think she was surprised because she didn't say anything.

By the time I got my homework done the grill was ready so I went back out to the kitchen and told Mom I'd do the grilling this time. I thought she was going to say no but instead she asked me where I learned how to do all that stuff. I told her Greg's dad taught me and she got kind of sad for a minute. Then she handed me a plate with burger patties on it and said "These go on first" and that was the end of it.

I only burned one of them a little bit. Mom said they tasted great.

* * *

January 3, 1984

Anyway, after Dad's barbecue we went to visit Grandpa Reed for a bit and took him to see Grandma. She moved into this place that's like a cross between a hospital and a house. Her room has lots of her stuff in it but she's got a hospital bed and a nurse and she's not the only person staying there anymore. We spent an hour or so there and then we went back to Grandpa's house. We had supper there and then we came home. It was a good visit for me because Grandpa Reed likes to talk about my dad when he was little.

Mom's been talking about Grandpa Reed maybe moving in with us. I don't know how I feel about that. She's been worried about him ever since Grandma was put in the nursing home but the tornado last year really upset her. Grandpa Reed says he's not moving no matter what but Mom says Dad would've wanted him to be with us because it's safer. Grandpa says the tornado was a fluke and she should 'calm her britches'. I guess that was the winning point because Mom hasn't brought it up since.

Oh, yeah. I meant to write about Christmas a while back. Not because anything extra special happened but because I got a few records that I wanted and it reminded me of the part I wrote a long time ago where I said we got Christmas gifts from Uncle Pete and Aunt Judy and David but we didn't open them.

Well, we did open them but it was a long time later - like weeks, I think. I know the break was over because I'd just gotten home from school when Mom said we should open the presents so she could let Uncle Pete know what we thought of them.

Mikey got toys, of course, and some clothes from Aunt Judy and a soccer ball from David. Mom got a scarf and some perfume and a gift certificate for a visit to the beauty parlor. I know Aunt Judy got her that one because they went together. That was the day Mom got her hair cut. I won't forget that because I was mad at her for a long, long time after. Dad really liked her long hair and she got it all cut off.

Uncle Pete gave me a record player (actually it was from him and Aunt Judy) and some jazz albums. Those were pretty good but the records David gave me were lots better. There was Fleetwood Mac, Air Supply, Elton John and Michael Jackson. My favorite is the Elton John one "Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy". Michael Jackson's "Off the Wall" is pretty good too but I prefer Captain Fantastic. Since then I've bought lots more records and Mom's given me some. My favorites now are Van Halen, Prince, Billy Idol (although Mom doesn't like me playing that one so I keep it turned down) and Queen.

Uncle Pete gave me Duke Ellington, Miles Davis, Louis Armstrong and Gateway Trio. I've tried listening to them all but they're really not my thing. Every once in a while I might put on Duke Ellington or Louis Armstrong but for the most part they just sit in a box.

Oh, and Aunt Judy also gave me a set of pyjamas but by the time we got around to opening the gifts, they were too short for me.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** I've attempted to keep to era-correct terminology in this story. No offense is intended.

* * *

February 19, 1984

I wanted to watch the Winter Olympics on television but I'm grounded from the TV. Mom saw me watching Hulk Hogan on WWF and pitched a fit. I figure she's overreacting but I yelled at her so now I'm stuck.

More on last year's blank spot: in the beginning of September (I think it was around the 4th or 5th), Greg's dad got hurt at work. He was at a fire in a warehouse when it happened. From what Greg told me he was inside helping rescue some workers when the catwalk he was on fell. He'll be able to go back to work eventually but both of his legs and one arm were in casts for a long, long time. I saw Greg at one of our games last week and he said his dad's doing better but he's still not cleared for duty.

I think firemen are crazy. Who would want to run into a burning building? Not me, that's for sure. I'm glad Mr. Mannerly wasn't hurt worse, though.

* * *

March 30, 1984

Just barely made it for this month. I haven't got a lot to write about. This school year is getting close to being done and next year I'll be in high school. Mom says if I can keep my grades up I can get a job bagging groceries at the corner market (if they'll hire me) instead of my paper route. I think I can do both. The route is before school and the market is after so that's alright and my grades have always been good so there's no problem there. The only thing that worries me is fitting in the job around baseball practice and the occasional game. We're really not that good so the games won't be much of a problem but we practice a lot. You'd think with how much we practice we'd be better but we're not.

Oh - Mom also said that her folks want us to come out to Florida for a visit this summer. On the one hand I've never been to Florida or ridden on a plane so that would be good but on the other I really don't like them because they said mean things about my dad. I told my mom what I thought but she hasn't let on what she's decided we'll do. I think she figures once we get out there they'll try to make us stay.

When I thought about that last bit I went out to the kitchen and told Mom that just because I was starting a new school next year doesn't mean I want to move again. She laughed at me.

* * *

April 4, 1984

This year April Fool's Day fell on Sunday. I was really happy about that because it meant I wouldn't have to put up with anyone trying to prank me. Unfortunately some people don't let that stop them.

My gym locker was rigged so when I opened the door this spring-loaded thing went off and flung a water bomb in my face. Not only did I get super wet but when the balloon popped it got me in the corner of my eye. The school nurse said the redness would fade but when I got home Mom freaked. I suppose it looked pretty scary with the white part of my eye bright red but at least it doesn't hurt. The kid responsible went to the office on his own and told the principal what he did. Then he apologized to me for hurting me. He didn't realize that would happen, I guess.

There was another kid in the nurse's office when I got there. I think his name is Theo. He got pranked too but the kids that did it were really mean. Theo's a colored kid and he gets bullied a lot by the white kids. There aren't a lot of colored kids in my school but they all get picked on a lot.

Anyway, apparently a bunch of kids caught Theo next to the equipment room and hauled him inside, then they pantsed him (that means yanking his shorts down) and put athletic tape on his rear. It might sound funny but when they pulled the tape off Theo lost some skin. Apparently he's allergic to the glue on the tape and when they put it on his skin got all blistered and stuff and that's what came off.

Theo was hurting pretty bad and his folks hadn't shown up yet so I sat in the office with him for a while, just to keep him company. Theo was cool with it but his parents weren't. They started to chew me out when they showed up until Theo told them I wasn't responsible. Then he told them about me sitting with him for a while and they calmed down.

After school I ran into a few of Theo's friends. They gave me a hard time about what happened to him and didn't want to listen when I tried to tell them I didn't have anything to do with it. I'm hoping Theo can tell them it wasn't me tomorrow.

* * *

April 7, 1984

Theo didn't come back to school. According to the principal he'll be out for at least a week. His friends jumped me after school on Thursday. Mom is freaking out.

In addition to the red eye I've already got, I now have a broken arm and bruises everywhere, a busted nose and two black eyes. The doctor says I have to wear the cast for six weeks which bites but he also said my nose should heal straight, which is good news.

The principal wants me to tell him who did it. So does my mom. I'm still thinking about it. On the one hand I don't want to fink on anyone but on the other I don't want those guys thinking they can just do that whenever they feel like it and get away with it.

I need to give him an answer by Monday and I have no idea what I should do. Sometimes I really miss my dad.

* * *

April 9, 1984

No problem finding things to write in here this month, that's for sure.

So I went to the principal but all I said was that it was a misunderstanding. He said it might've been but I still had a responsibility to ensure that 'those kids' didn't get away with what they did. I told him that I was aware of that but I also didn't want to be the cause of more trouble. If they hadn't been colored kids I probably wouldn't have thought twice about ratting them out but I know the reason behind all of it was white kids against colored kids.

I told him I wanted to try dealing with it on my own and if it didn't work I'd tell him who it was.

* * *

April 14, 1984

Sometimes I think I might call Howard and tell him I want to talk to him but I know he's pretty expensive so I don't.

Theo came back to school on Wednesday. I went up to him to talk to him and his friends were hanging around. His eyes got really big when he saw my cast and black eyes. I told him his friends thought that I was the one that hurt him and I wanted him to tell them who did it really. I thought for a minute that he might actually do it but then one of his friends said it didn't matter - he said all 'honkies' were the same and I was just as guilty for what happened as any other white kid. I stared at Theo for the longest time, waiting to see if he'd say anything but he didn't. I was pretty bummed out by that - I thought we got along pretty good. Just goes to show you that what a person is like on their own can be totally different when they're in a crowd of people.

I went to the principal and told him who beat me up and why. When he asked me why I waited so long I explained that I wanted to talk to Theo first to see if he'd vouch for me but he wouldn't. Then I told him about what the other kid said and explained that I didn't want to tell him at first because I thought it might turn into a race thing. He said he understood and would see what he could do.

Theo came to me yesterday and said his friends all have in-school suspensions for what they did to me and had to spend every day for a week doing work in a classroom with the vice principal there. I told him that I wasn't sorry for ratting them out because what they did was wrong but that I thought he ought to be in there with them for not speaking up.

The principal's pretty sneaky. The vice principal is a colored man.

* * *

May 15, 1984

The cast comes off today. I can't wait. I haven't been this itchy since Mikey gave me chicken pox.

* * *

May 15, 1984 - later

They don't tell you that when the cast comes off your arm reeks. I just about puked.

* * *

June 11, 1984

Mikey's birthday was yesterday. Mom says we're going to Florida on the 20th. At least it's after Dad's barbecue. I don't know if I'm going to take this journal or not. Grandma seems like the type of person who goes through your stuff when you're not looking.

* * *

June 30th, 1984

Florida was cool. The plane ride was awesome except for the part where Mikey got airsick. I was sitting across from him and Mom so I didn't get any of it on me but those barf bags they give you aren't big enough for when Mikey gets sick, let me tell you.

We went to Disneyworld which is just like Disneyland only a little different. Most of the rides and stuff are the same but Disneyworld is a lot bigger. You have to use buses to get from one place to the other where at Disneyland you can walk most places. Otherwise it's pretty much the same.

I was right about Grandma, too. Once when I was heading to my room to change my clothes after playing with Mikey in the sprinkler, I walked past the room Mom was using and saw Grandma going through her stuff. She pulled out the picture Mom has of Dad in his uniform and made a noise like she'd just smelled something bad. Then she put the picture back in Mom's suitcase and closed it up again. I ducked into the room I was sharing with Mikey then (they have a really big house with lots of extra bedrooms) but later I told Mom what I saw. She gave me heck for spying on people but after we went to bed I heard her having it out with her mom.

When I think about Grandma going through my journal I get a kind of sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I'm glad I left it at home. Mom says we won't be going back there for a long, long time - if ever. She was really mad.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** For today's useless bit of trivia... There's an entry in here purely for my own son. He won't ever read this but I was thinking about him while I was writing and it made me smile.

* * *

July 4, 1984

Mom's taking us to see the parade. More later.

* * *

July 4, 1984 - later

The parade was pretty cool. Mom says it's one of many they have every July 4th. I saw lots of police cars and policemen (and policewomen) wandering around. It made me think of my dad and Uncle Pete. I didn't get mad like I used to but it made me very sad.

Mom also took us to see a fireworks display but the loud noises scared Mikey so when she asked me how I was doing I told her I'd seen enough. She gave me a kind of funny smile and then told Mikey we were leaving. I thought we were going to come straight home but we stopped for pizza and ice cream instead.

* * *

August 18, 1984

I've decided I don't like Gloria. She was over visiting Mom today and I heard her say it was about time Mom got out and dated guys. Mom said she wasn't ready yet but Gloria said "Do you think Jim would want you wasting away at home?" She has no idea what my dad would want. I was about to go into the kitchen and tell her that but I heard my mom say "Not _now_, Gloria," in the same voice she uses when Mikey is pestering her about something. It worked on Gloria, too.

* * *

September 29, 1984

Just about missed writing in here this month. I'm in high school now and it seems like I'm busy all the time.

I stopped playing baseball a while ago but I took up running again - even if I haven't written about it much. Well the gym teacher (everyone calls him 'Coach') asked me about baseball and I told him I wasn't interested so he asked what I was interested in and I said running. He told me I should try out for the track team. I don't know if I want to do that. Running is kind of my own thing and I don't really want to have to do it, you know? Still, I told him I'd think about it.

My marks have always been pretty good but when I got to high school they had me take a bunch of tests to see just how good they really are. I must've done okay because the school called my mom and asked her to come in and talk about maybe putting me up a grade. Mom asked me what I thought about it. I'm not sure what to say.

On the one hand, it'd be great to be done earlier but on the other hand it's already hard enough adjusting to a whole new school. Kids in my grade go through a lot of teasing from the older kids, so I can just imagine how bad they'd be if someone my age was put up a grade. It might not be too bad, though. I'm a lot bigger than the other kids in my grade.

I have to have an answer by Monday. That's when Mom and I are supposed to go meet with the principal and let him know what I'm doing.

* * *

November 10, 1984

Missed October entirely. Damn.

This is the only place I can use that word. Mom has kittens if she hears me say it. It sometimes fits, though.

I told the principal I'd go up a grade. The only class I have to take in grade ten is Spanish anyway and I had a free spot for that. Well, not really a free spot. I was supposed to be taking a study period but I'm doing Spanish instead. I don't know why I need it but whatever.

I did go take a look at the track team but I wasn't interested. When I told Coach that, he said I'd probably like the Cross Country team better so I checked that out too. Turns out he was right. I'm on the team now and not doing too badly if I do say so myself. I'm too young to be in the competitions officially but I still train with the rest of the guys.

There wasn't as much teasing as I thought there would be when I first said I'd go up a grade. In fact, some people thought it was pretty cool and I got to be a kind of celebrity for a while. Not long, though, because after a while people got used to the idea and now it's no big deal. The only thing I have to deal with now is girls. What a pain in the neck.

It's like this: either they're sitting around in bunches staring and giggling like they're tickling each other or they're wandering around in bunches with their noses in the air like they're something extra special. Some of the guys like to tease me and tell me so-and-so likes me and wants me to ask them out but I can't be bothered.

It's not that I don't like girls - I do... a lot - but none of the ones I see around school really interest me. This one girl Nicole was always in my face last week but just yesterday I saw her in the hallway sucking face with one of the football players. Right out in the open. I'm glad I dodged that bullet.

One of the guys on my team, Jason, always bugs me about girls and tells me how they'd give their right arm to go on a date with me. I asked him why he thought that and he said "Dude, you ever look in a mirror?" I thought that was kind of weird but Jason's a weird kind of guy.

Besides... I'm only fifteen. I don't need the hassle right now.

* * *

December 3, 1984

Mom said I was an 'old soul' today. I have no idea what she's talking about.

* * *

January 11, 1985

I'm supposed to be going to a dance tonight but I don't really want to. Mom's being all weird about it and looking like she's going to cry at any minute. Not only that, I know that if I do go Nicole (or Nikki as she prefers to be called) is going to be all over me again. She broke up with that football player a while ago and dated a few others and now she's single again. Jason used a word for her the other day that fits her perfectly: skanky.

Mom's calling me. Looks like I'm going to end up at that dance anyway.

* * *

January 12, 1985

I really thought I was going to hate being at that dance. It was kind of boring to begin with. Some of the football players showed up and they'd obviously been drinking. They were being more loud and obnoxious than usual. The chaperones had a heck of a time getting them out of there. A few of them went out into the parking lot and started kicking up a fuss and then someone's car window got smashed and the next thing we knew there were cops there.

I was watching it all from the steps of the school. A couple of squad cars pulled up and two cops got out. They looked at what was happening and then one got back in the car - probably to use the radio - while the other one spoke to the principal. A few minutes later more squad cars arrived and the cops broke up the mess in the parking lot while a couple of them grabbed the kids that were behaving the worst and put them in the backseats of their cars. I noticed one of them was the guy from the football team I'd seen Nicole in a lip lock with.

It's funny - I couldn't decide whether I was more disgusted by what they (the kids) were doing or amused. I was just trying to figure it out when it occurred to me that some of the police officers were riding alone in their cars. I thought that was kind of weird because I know that's how my dad and Uncle Pete met - they were partners in the same car. Dad told me once that they had a few cars with only one officer in it but for the most part they ride in pairs because it's safer. I got a little worried about it then but then I kind of shook my head. I don't really care what they do or don't do anymore.

Anyway... Right about then I heard an argument between a couple of girls standing nearby. A bunch of kids had come out to see what was going on and there was a group a few steps down from me. Two of the girls were arguing about whether they were going to stay and watch. One of them wanted to stay but the other one was saying she didn't want to stand out in the cold watching a 'bunch of idiots make fools of themselves'. That's what got my attention. When I looked down at them, though, I noticed the girl who wanted to go back inside really did look cold while her friend was all upset. She said something about telling the first girl's mom they'd stick together and she wanted to stay outside and watch.

The first girl kind of hunched up and stayed there but I could tell she was freezing. She wasn't dressed like most of the other girls with a big fancy dress and huge hair and tons of makeup. Her dress looked like a nice, normal dress and I figured it couldn't have been helping much to keep her warm so I walked down the steps and gave her my coat.

Her friend got this funny look on her face when I did that. I don't know what she was thinking but she started acting all weird - blinking her eyes a lot and putting her head on one side when she talked. She said they were 'like, totally grateful' that I gave Jenny - that was the other girl - my coat and she would 'like, totally make sure' I got it back by the end of the night. I think she looked kind of ridiculous, actually. I suppose if she didn't have hair sticking up everywhere and talked normally I probably wouldn't have thought that way but whatever.

Her friend, Jenny, just said thanks for the jacket and asked if I was going to be cold without it. I told her I was going back inside anyway and would be next to the refreshments when she was done with it.

Jenny was kind of cool for a girl. The rest of them are just plain weird though.


	13. Chapter 13

January 25, 1985

I read that last part over again and realized I didn't really finish the story. There isn't much to tell, though. Jenny came back in shortly after I did and gave me my coat. Her friend came hurrying up just as she was about to walk away and grabbed her arm to make her stay. Then she started talking to me about what went on outside and asking me how I liked the dance and didn't the student council do well with the decorations... blah, blah, blah. All the time Jenny had this look on her face like she was really embarrassed. I answered the other one - she said her name was Patty - as politely as I could but I think she got the idea I didn't want to talk to her. Jenny just rolled her eyes and told Patty she was going to sit down, said "Nice to meet you" and then left. The look on Patty's face when she did that was hilarious. I smiled at Jenny and then Patty said all of a sudden "Like, do you wanna dance?" I told her no thanks.

Like I said, there wasn't much to tell.

* * *

February 19, 1985

I asked Jason to find out what he could about Jenny without being obvious or letting anyone know who was asking. He's good at that sort of thing and I know he'll do it for me.

It turns out Jenny prefers to be called Jennifer and her mom and Patty's mom are friends. They (Jennifer and Patty) used to play together a lot when they were smaller but Patty's family moved a few years back so they don't see that much of each other anymore. That would explain why they're so different.

Jason also said that Jennifer's dad is somebody important in the county fire department, her mom used to be a florist and she has an older brother who's also going to join the fire department. Jason says he (the brother) is 'one ripped dude' and wouldn't like someone messing with his kid sister. I told Jason he was plain weird and I wasn't interested in 'messing with' anyone. I was just curious, for heaven's sake. It's not like we're going to run into each other again - she lives on the other side of town.

Besides... even if I were interested in her, there's no way I'd want to get on the bad side of her brother or her dad. They're both firemen (or going to be) which makes them a little unstable in my book.

* * *

March 9, 1985

I got to thinking the other day... I'm only going to be 16 when I graduate. Not 17 like everyone else. That's gonna be so weird.

I also got thinking that I use the word 'weird' a lot.

Weird. Ha ha.

* * *

April 28, 1985

Coach says there's a track meet coming up next month and he wants me to train as a spare. That's someone they get to run if one of the regular runners can't go for some reason. I don't have a problem filling in for someone as long as it doesn't cause problems later on. I heard that there hasn't been a spare before so either he's just being careful or he's got an idea that they're gonna need one. Either way I've stepped up my training a bit.

Jason told me something the other day that I've been thinking about a lot lately. He said there's a Peace Officers Memorial Day on May 15th and that the whole week is called 'National Police Week'. I don't know why I didn't know about it before. Jason says it's been that way since the sixties but I'm pretty sure it's the first I've heard of it.

He said a couple of other things, too. Like the school career fair is held for a couple of days in the same week - probably so they can do a special thing for law enforcement (Jason's words, not mine) and that there's a memorial for fallen officers at the police department headquarters.

Part of me wants to go see if Dad's name is on the thing at Parker Center and go to the memorial day thing on the 15th, but another part of me just feels sick at the thought.

I think Jason could tell because after he said all that he got really quiet. Jason's never quiet.

* * *

May 18, 1985

I went.

I didn't tell Mom I was going to do it. I feel kind of bad about that but I don't think she'd understand. I thought it over every day since Jason told me and I really wasn't going to go but at the last minute I did.

I went to the principal and told him I'd like to be excused from classes and why. He said he'd have to get the okay from my mom and I kind of panicked for a second but I explained that I didn't want her to know I wanted to go. He was pretty cool about it. He did give me a lecture about parental permission and how he didn't want me to think I could get away without it every time I wanted to skip school and stuff, but it was a short lecture so that was cool.

I didn't go to see the memorial, though. It was right there but I didn't go look. I just couldn't.

The next day was the start of the career fair. I peeked in and saw the displays and stuff but I didn't go in. It's mostly for seniors anyway. Even then, I'm still going to be younger than everyone else so I'll probably skip it.

Friday was the second (and last) day of the career fair. I was heading to my English class when I saw Coach talking to a cop in the hallway. At first I thought someone was in trouble but then I realized he (the cop) must've come from the career fair in the gym. Coach was saying to him how impressed he was with the way the police handled the Olympics. I didn't think the cop looked old enough to have been there but it was only last year and he said 'thanks' so I guess he was. I'd forgotten that they did all that stuff for the Olympics. That is kind of impressive.

* * *

June 16, 1985

School's out. I've dropped my paper route so I can take summer class for Spanish 11 and work the rest of the time at the store. I asked for tomorrow off, though. My boss, Mr. Cassavetes, was pretty good about it. I'm ahead in class so getting out of going tomorrow wasn't a big deal.

* * *

August 31, 1986

Missed July completely. School starts on Tuesday. I'll be a senior this year. Mom's been talking about getting me fitted for a tuxedo and a bunch of other stuff like college. I don't know if I want to go but I'm sure I don't want a tux. Mikey says when he gets to be a senior he's going to wear a red one. I bet he would, too. He likes doing weird stuff like that.

Once Mom caught him putting on bright green pants and an orange shirt for school and she tried to make him change it. He pitched such a fit that she finally gave up and let him wear it. She was running out of time to get to work anyway. The interesting thing is, Mikey's teacher sent a note home about his 'questionable attire' and Mom phoned the school and reamed her out for 'challenging his individuality'. Pretty hypocritical for someone who didn't want him dressing like a circus clown in the first place. I guess it's one thing when she says something to him about it but heaven help anyone else that tries to do it.

Since then she's pretty much given up on fighting with him over his clothing choices. He can be stubborn - even for a nine-year-old.

* * *

September 7, 1985

School started out pretty well, actually. It was good seeing Jason again except all he wanted to talk about was the girls he dated over the summer (his family went to Florida for the entire summer) and which colleges he's applying to. I haven't even thought about it but I knew as soon as he brought it up he was going to insist I talk about it and I was right.

He also said I should look at different scholarships because of my grades. That made me stop and think a bit. I do have some money saved but if I can get a scholarship to college that means Mom won't have to pay for it.

I wanted to talk to Mom about it when she got home from work but she was pretty tired. She's been working a lot lately. I told her she could have half my pay from the store but she won't take any of it. She says we're fine for money but she still doesn't get home until almost suppertime. I've been making supper for all of us since the end of the last school year. Because I work at the store from seven until closing and all day on the weekends, I don't really get much time to talk to her.

The supper thing started a few days after school let out. Mom called from work and said she'd have to work late. She asked me to go to Mrs. Rafferty's place and pick up Mikey and bring him home (Mrs. Rafferty is the woman that takes Mikey during the day in summer - she just lives down the street). I said I would and then Mom asked if I could make something for us to eat because she was going to be late.

I could only make soup and sandwiches but I made enough for all of us and when Mom got home she said it was good. Then she said she'd make something and put it in the fridge for me to cook the next night because she'd probably have to work late again.

That went on for a couple of weeks - her making something the night before and me cooking it - but I started to get sick of casseroles pretty quick. Then I thought of how I'd asked Mr. Mannerly to teach me to barbecue so I went to the library and borrowed a bunch of cookbooks. The first night I didn't cook the casserole Mom left but instead I made meatloaf and potatoes and salad. I knew we didn't have the stuff to make it (except the potatoes) so I made a list before I went to work and bought it all before I came home. Mom was really surprised and pleased - at first. Then she wanted to know where the meat and the salad came from. When I told her she hit the roof.

Long story short: Mom and I came to an agreement. She leaves money and I pick up what I need from the store and pay for it out of that - no more using my own money to buy groceries.


	14. Chapter 14

September 30, 1985

The last entry was a long one but I forgot a part. I asked Mrs. Rafferty for some cooking tips (she's always making cookies and cupcakes and stuff) and she gave me a few lessons. Mostly things like the best way to cook pork chops and how to tell if a roast is done. I pretty much knew it already but there's little things they don't tell you in cookbooks that make a huge difference in how food tastes. I even borrowed a textbook from the home economics lab so that I could learn about stuff but it's easier with Mrs. Rafferty - and I think she likes teaching me. She's an older lady and her kids live a long way away so I think giving me cooking lessons makes her happy.

* * *

October 19, 1985

I was at the mall today with Jason and a weird thing happened. Just as we were leaving we saw a squad car parked by one of the entrances (someone was probably being picked up for shoplifting - a few of the kids from school do it, I know). At first I didn't think anything of it but there was a cop standing by the car just looking around as we walked by and when he saw me he kind of gave me a double-take. He was tall and kind of thin-looking with what my mom calls a 'long face' and his hair was mostly gray. He also had a lot of stripes on his sleeves. I'm guessing he used to know my dad but I didn't recognize him.

* * *

December 29, 1985

School's out for Christmas break. Mom's in the kitchen with Mike (he doesn't want to be called 'Mikey' anymore) making cookies.

Mom's off work for a little while. Her doctor says she's exhausted and needs some rest. Her boss gave her two weeks sick leave which I guess is kind of a big deal. Mom says he only has to give her a week but he's going someplace like Jamaica for vacation so he doesn't really need her to be at work while he's gone.

I'm glad she's not working, actually. For the first few days after she got home she slept almost all the time. Now she's almost back to the way she used to be before Dad died. She still seems a little sad but at least she doesn't look so tired all the time - and I can't remember the last time she felt like making cookies.

I sometimes wonder if maybe Gloria wasn't right about Mom going out on dates again. It might make her a little happier.

* * *

January 1, 1986

Sometimes I feel like such a jerk. I got to thinking about the whole dating thing and so tonight when we were talking about resolutions I brought it up to Mom. She looked like I'd just told her she should go out and kick puppies. I apologized right away but she didn't say anything. I didn't mean to hurt her feelings.

* * *

January 2, 1986

It's after midnight. I had to stop the last entry early because Mom came into my room. She wanted to talk about what I said. I tried apologizing again but she cut me off and said there was something she had to explain to me.

She said that when she and Dad got together it was like she'd found a missing piece of herself and when they split up it was bad but she could handle it because he was still kind of around. After Dad died that part of her was gone and she couldn't bring herself to look for another one.

I kind of get what she meant. With Dad gone, Uncle Pete should have been the one to step in and be a kind of dad for me but I didn't want him to - I wanted my dad. Mom doesn't want another husband because Dad was it for her.

I guess, in a way, Mom was kind of pretending too. Even though she and Dad weren't together, she never stopped thinking of him as her husband. Thinking back, I can't remember a time when she called him 'ex-husband', either. I heard Gloria say once that she took back her maiden name when she got divorced but Mom still goes by Mrs. Reed. Not even 'Ms. Reed' like my Geography teacher Ms. Rowe (I only found out about that last year when she told everyone to call her 'Miz' instead of 'Missus'. Jason, of course, asked her why).

Which brings me back to my original question: Why did Mom and Dad get divorced?

* * *

January 20, 1986

The guidance counsellor at school has been bugging me about college so tonight I brought it up with Mom. I told her I'd go if I could get a scholarship and she said something that totally floored me.

Apparently both Mike and I have money set aside for college. Mom and Dad started a college fund for me right after I was born and then did the same for Mike. After they split up, Mom couldn't afford to put money into it but Dad kept doing it. It's no wonder he was always short on money.

After Dad died, Mom couldn't collect the death benefits because they were divorced but Dad's insurance policy gave her some money and put some into our college funds. Mom also said that she thinks Uncle Pete's been paying into it some because the amount started going up after him and Aunt Judy got divorced.

At first I was kind of shocked at finding out I had a college fund but finding out Uncle Pete got divorced kind of brought my brain to a screeching halt. Mom actually snapped her fingers in my face to get my attention, I was so out of it.

It kind of makes me wonder - do all policemen get divorced? And, if that's the case, why do they bother getting married in the first place?

* * *

February 9, 1986

I've applied for a couple of colleges anyway. I still don't know what I want to go _for_ but I've got to do something and I don't exactly want to work at the store for the rest of my life. Besides, the guidance counsellor was getting on my last nerve. It seemed like every day she was nagging me about it.

I did find out something interesting though - the LAPD has scholarships available for kids whose parents died in the line of duty. The counsellor wanted me to apply for that but I didn't. I don't think it would be right if I got that scholarship when there's probably some kid out there that really needs it. Even if I don't get any scholarships at all, I can still go to college.

* * *

March 8, 1986

I won't be able to write in here much for a while. Mr. Cassavetes is sick and his wife's looking after the store. I told her I'd work extra to help out until he gets back on his feet.

* * *

May 17, 1986

I didn't go to the memorial service this time. I did, however, go to the career fair. All of the stuff there looked pretty cool but nothing really stuck out.

Jason was with me for a little while but by the time I got to the booth for the RTD, he was gone. I backtracked a bit and finally found him talking to some guy at the LAFD booth. I can't say I was surprised. Jason always did seem a bit out of whack.

By the time I dragged him out of there, he was totally fixated on the idea of joining the fire department. I asked him why he'd want to do that instead of one of the Silicon Valley companies since he was applying to Stanford. He just said I wouldn't understand. He was right about that.

When we were leaving I saw the booth for the police department. There was a pretty big crowd of kids there (meaning eight or nine as opposed to the usual one or two at the other booths). For a second I was tempted to go take a look but I had to get Jason out of there before he started trying on firefighter gear or something.

I did go back later, though. I sneaked in during lunch time by telling the teacher watching the doors I'd dropped my wallet over by the Carsey-Werner booth. Since I'm a pretty good student that doesn't cause trouble she let me go in. The reason I picked that booth was because I knew it was right next to the LAPD one.

Because it was lunchtime, the career fair was closed until one-thirty so there was no one around (that's why there was a teacher watching the doors). I looked over the stuff they had on display for a few minutes and then went back out. I wasn't interested in the pencils and key chains and stuff they had on the table but I almost grabbed one of the pamphlets. I didn't do it, though. My conscience was nagging me - not only had I lied to a teacher to get in but if I couldn't bring myself to go to the booth when there were people there, then I certainly shouldn't be helping myself to their materials. It didn't matter that that's what they were there for.

Ever since then I've been thinking about what I saw at that booth and wondering. Why do they do it? What did Uncle Pete mean way back when he said they were policemen before they put on the badge? What was it about the job that my dad couldn't get a different one when he knew Mom didn't want him to be a cop anymore? What is it about certain jobs that make people like Jason - who's pretty much a computer nerd - want to do them so badly?

And on the heels of all that came other questions: What happened to Uncle Pete's marriage? Did he and Aunt Judy split up because of the job, too? And, if that was the case, why did he stay with the job and leave his marriage? And, too, what was it about the job that Aunt Judy couldn't handle? That Mom couldn't handle?

Most importantly, though, I wanted to know what happened to Dad. I mean, what _actually_ happened to him, not just what I was told when he died - that he got shot. Why did he get shot? Who did it? What happened?

The more I think about it the more I'm realizing I'll have to talk to Uncle Pete if I want answers. I don't know if I can do that. I don't know if he'll want to talk to me after all this time.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** These will be a couple of short ones, folks. I apologize but that's how it works best for what's coming up. Thanks for sticking with me.

* * *

June 10, 1986

I got accepted to Stanford and UCLA. I think I'll go to UCLA. It's closer to home and cheaper. I thought about Stanford for a while but I only applied because I thought Jason was going there. It turns out he isn't going at all. I knew he was a head case. He's going to work at his dad's garage until he's 18 and then he's going to apply to the fire department.

* * *

June 14, 1986

Well, I graduated. Mom and Mike came to watch. I thought it would be more of a big deal than it actually was. I know a lot of the kids were going to an after-grad party so maybe that's what all the fuss was about. Jason went but I didn't.

Mom was actually trying to push me to go to the after party. Before the ceremony I was seriously considering going with Jason but when I went up to get my diploma and looked out over the audience, I got really bummed out knowing my dad wasn't there to see me graduate. It kind of killed my mood. After it was over and we all threw our caps in the air, I went and found Mom and Mike and told them I just wanted to go home.

I go back to work at the store on Monday. I'll work there until August and then get ready for school again.

* * *

June 16, 1986

Mr. Cassavetes told me today that he's selling the store. He said after he got sick he realized he didn't have what it takes to run it anymore so he's getting out. The new owner takes over at the end of the month. He also told me he'd put in a good word for me with the new owner so I could keep my job if I wanted to.

At least I still get tomorrow off.

* * *

June 21, 1986

I did it. I called the police station and asked if Uncle Pete was there. Only I didn't ask for 'Uncle Pete', I asked for 'Sergeant Malloy'. The woman that answered the phone said _Captain_ Malloy would be in on Monday. She also asked me if it was an emergency but I hung up. I didn't want to try to explain anything to her. I also didn't want it getting back to Uncle Pete that I was looking for him. I still don't know if I'm going to go talk to him or not.

* * *

June 27, 1986

I got to meet the new owner of the store today. His name is Mr. Harada. When Mr. Cassavetes mentioned my staying on with him, he said I was welcome but his son and daughter would be working there too. I don't know if I'll stay or not.

When I got home there was a new car in the driveway. At first I thought someone was visiting but it turns out the new car is Mom's. I say 'new' but it isn't, really. It's just newer than the old one. Mom says with gas prices going up and me going to college, she didn't want the big station wagon anymore so she traded it in.

It's funny - right after she said that she got a weird look on her face and said maybe she should've kept it for me. I have a driver's license but I never drive anywhere so I don't know why she'd think that. I'd rather take a bus than have to worry about LA traffic or paid parking. It's different for her because the place she works at has underground parking so she doesn't need to pay.

It'd be nice to have a car, I guess, but it's a headache I don't need. I do fine without one and if I really, really want to drive I can always borrow hers. I'm not sure what the big deal is.

It'll be easier for her to drive, anyway. It's a little Honda that's a couple of years old but it's an automatic and the engine is half the size of the one in the station wagon. It'll be cheaper on gas and a lot easier to find a parking spot. It's a weird color, though - kind of red but with a brownish hue to it. Mom said the trade-in on the wagon took some of the 'sticker shock' out of it but it's still going to take her a couple of years to pay it off.

I think I'd rather pay for a bus pass.

* * *

July 7, 1986

I'm not working at the store anymore. I couldn't make up my mind about it for a while and then I found out from Tom (that's Mr. Harada's son - his name is 'Toma' but he goes by 'Tom') that the store would be open on July 4th and I decided then that I didn't want to work there anymore.

It might seem like a small thing but with everything that's been bugging me lately it was just one thing too many. I know it's probably not the only store open on Independence Day but Mr. Cassavetes always closed on that day out of respect. The fact that Mr. Harada wouldn't just grated on me.

Since I wasn't working, I was kind of getting bored. I'm still running but you can't do that all day long. Most of my friends from school are going to be going to college out of state so they're either moving or packing right now so I'm left with not a lot to do.

Maybe it was out of boredom - I don't know - but today I decided to hop a bus and take it wherever. I think I had an idea that I'd head out to Santa Monica and hang out on the pier. As I was riding I looked out the window and saw Dad's old police station and for some reason I reached up and pulled the bell cord.

It wasn't until my feet hit the pavement and the bus pulled away that I really began to realize what I'd just done. I hadn't decided to go see Uncle Pete and yet there I was, walking up the sidewalk to the police station. When I got to the door I just stood there for a minute. I think I was about to turn around and walk away but the next thing I knew I was standing at the desk asking the cop behind the counter if I could talk to Captain Malloy.

He said he was in a meeting and I could wait if I wanted to. That was my cue to leave but instead I walked over to a bench and sat down. I remembered those benches from when I was little. I'm pretty sure they were the same ones only re-upholstered. I sat there for a minute wondering what I was doing and then a thought popped into my head that almost made me laugh: I used to swing my feet when I was sitting on that bench because my legs were too short to touch the floor. Now I've got to stick my feet out because they're too long.

Speaking of long, I'm going to stop here and continue tomorrow. Mom's calling me for supper.


	16. Chapter 16

July 8, 1986

This is going to be another long one. I'm going to try to write it all down at once.

Thinking of when I was little brought back a lot of memories. The area where I was sitting - I guess it's the lobby or whatever - is pretty much the way it used to be except for the décor. I remember the wall behind the desk was covered in some kind of brown wallpaper and there was a big clock in the middle of it. The clock's gone now along with the paper.

The long cupboard with the radio on it was still there, though. Once I realized that I started listening really hard, trying to hear it. It was turned down low but I could still make out a few words here and there. One thing I did notice was that it seemed a lot busier than I remembered. Every few seconds there'd be a click and someone would radio in.

The front desk used to be divided up with these little walls that had clipboards and phones on them. The dividers are gone now - in fact, the whole desk is different than it used to be. Before, the officers would sit right up at the desk where you could see them but now it's built so they kind of sit behind an elevated part. From where I was on the bench I could only see them from the shoulders up. The phones must have been right on the desk behind the elevated part because I didn't see them when I was standing at the desk but while I was waiting I watched the guy on the right pick up his phone a couple of times.

Anyway... I was sitting there, staring at my sneakers and listening to the radio when I suddenly felt like I was being watched. I looked up and Uncle Pete was standing in a doorway just off to the right of the desk. I stood up fast and stuck my hands in my pockets because they'd started to shake for some reason and I didn't want him to see them.

It seemed like forever we just stood there, staring at each other. I fully expected him to turn around and walk out or tell me to leave or something but he didn't. He just looked at me with this surprised expression on his face. Just when I was about to glance away, he finally said "My god, Jimmy - you look just like him."

I could feel my face get hot. I don't think I resemble my dad. For one thing, he was a good-looking guy and I'm kind of average. Brown eyes and brown hair, kind of skinny. My dad had hair that was almost black and really wicked blue eyes and whereas he wasn't built, he had a kind of leanness to him like a martial artist or something. It felt good to hear someone thought so, though.

I couldn't think of anything to say other than 'hello' so I said that and then just continued to stand there. Finally Uncle Pete kind of smiled a little bit and said "Come on to my office."

I followed him through the doorway and down the same corridor he'd taken me way back when he brought me in to show me around after I got suspended for fighting at school. I had a feeling that we should've gone straight down the hallway - probably because of that - but he turned and the next thing I knew he was showing me into an office I hadn't seen before.

He asked me if I wanted something to eat or drink then. I almost said 'yes' because it was past lunchtime and I was hungry but I shook my head instead. He told me to sit in one of the chairs so I did. They weren't your typical hard plastic chairs, either, but ones with arms and cushions which were kind of nice. I looked around his office for a bit while he shut the door and then sat behind a big desk.

His office was nice. Kind of plain but there were bookshelves and pictures spread around. Most of the photos were of him shaking hands with people who looked important. There was also a bunch of frames on the wall with awards and citations and stuff in them. I knew he was a good police officer but I think my respect for him went up a few notches after I read those.

The thing that caught my attention the most, though, was a picture of him and my dad sitting right there on his desk. They were both wearing their uniforms and they had their arms around each other's shoulders and they looked really happy. Seeing that brought me back to the reason I was there and I finally looked at him.

I don't know how long my attention had wandered but Uncle Pete just sat there waiting quietly, his fingers laced together on the top of the desk. I gave him a small smile kind of as an apology but he just smiled back and asked how I'd been.

We must've spent about half an hour just making small talk. I told him about graduating and track (I'd ended in second place in the state finals - not my greatest moment) and how I left my job, and then went on to talk about Mike and Mom. I made sure to let him know Mike isn't called 'Mikey' anymore, too, just in case he ever ran into him.

After all that was out of the way, Uncle Pete asked me what brought me down there. I kind of got quiet while I tried to put into words the real reason why I was there. It wasn't easy. The whole time, though, Uncle Pete just sat and waited. Anyone else would've spoken up when I didn't talk right away but he didn't.

I finally decided to start out with a safe topic: the career fair. I told him about all the booths and the fact that I got accepted to UCLA (he told me congratulations but he didn't sound very surprised). I also told him that I would probably do my first year in general study because I didn't know what I wanted to take. I described how Jason had reacted once he'd seen the fire department booth and how I'd always been sure that he was going to go to Stanford and study computers. I mentioned how others in my class seemed to know right away what they were going to do but that I had no idea.

This was a lot longer than the last one. I'm going to have to stop here.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** This chapter is longer than usual - but it's also being posted by itself. The reason being the next part has to go together but it's too big for one chapter so I had to break it into two. So... one for now.

If I haven't responded to you already, or if your review was left anonymously, I just want to thank everyone for taking the time to read this and let me know what you think. I really appreciate it.

Oh, and some of you may think this story is ending soon - the good news (or bad, if you think it's already dragged on too long) is that there's lots more to go before Jimmy Jr finally gets where he's going.

Thanks again!

* * *

July 9, 1986

Normally I wouldn't be writing in here so much but I have this feeling that I should put down everything that Uncle Pete and I talked about. It was pretty heavy stuff and I don't want to forget any of it.

Anyway... Once I got all that out, Uncle Pete leaned forward on the desk and said "You're wondering what it is that you're meant to do."

I answered "Sort of." I mean, it was kind of what I wanted to know but not all of it. Problem was, I couldn't get the words out for the questions I _did_ want to ask.

"Mm..." he said, nodding. "You're wondering what it is that drives someone like Jason - that lets him _know_ that firefighting is what he wants to do."

I agreed but that still wasn't it. I think Uncle Pete knew because the next thing he said was:

"You want to know what it was that made your father choose the career he did."

That was it in a nutshell. I was so relieved he'd said what I couldn't that I just stared at him. He leaned back in his chair and tapped his pen on the desktop. He seemed to be thinking.

I didn't want to jinx it by saying anything so I waited. The door opened and some guy in a uniform started to say something but Uncle Pete just looked up and shook his head so he left. A minute or so later he took a deep breath and I thought he was going to start but he just asked if Mom knew I was there.

I said "No sir" and tensed. I was pretty sure he was going to tell me I had to phone her or go home or something but he didn't. He thought some more, muttered 'sixteen' and then let the pen drop.

"One of the first things you have to understand, Jimmy," he started. "Is that being a police officer isn't all shootouts and bank robberies and car chases." I felt my eyebrows go up. All the shows I'd seen on TV showed them as just that. I mean, I knew it couldn't be all that it was but there's a difference between knowing something and _knowing_ something, you know?

"Anyone who wants to join has to go through a testing process," he went on. "And a background check. They have to be of good moral character and physically fit. Then their psychiatric health and mental aptitude are tested. It's a long, drawn-out process.

Once they're judged to be good candidates, they're then put into the police academy. Six months of learning the law, being taught things like self-defense, voice projection, familiarity with contraband and illegal substances, driving a closed course, using the firing range... It's a steep learning curve. A lot of people drop out.

Those that don't continue on with more bookwork, more physical training, more testing. If they make it through all of that, then they're taught about the forms and the filing systems. The science and methodology behind casework-"

I couldn't help myself. I asked "Science?" It wasn't my best subject.

Uncle Pete smiled at me. "You don't think the bad guys stick around to get caught, do you?" he asked. "We use science in some cases to gather and analyze evidence."

I felt kind of stupid. Of course the criminals don't wait for the cops to show up. I just never really gave it a lot of thought before and said so.

"A lot of people don't," he said. "That's why the training is so important." He picked up his pen and started swirling it on the desk as though he were drawing circles. "After the training at the academy is pretty much done the recruits start doing field work," he continued. "They go out in squad cars with beat cops to observe how the job is done. They get walked through filling out paperwork. They get to see first-hand the procedures we follow.

If - and that's a pretty big 'if' - they get through all of that and manage to graduate, the 'rookies' as we call them will get paired up with a senior officer for the duration of their probationary period. They have to keep their nose to the grindstone for another year before they can finally consider themselves full-fledged officers. But it doesn't stop there - they've got another _three_ years of constant supervision while they do things like fill out more paperwork, interview potential witnesses, get familiar with the business owners in their area, investigate the cat that knocked over the garbage can, fill out more paperwork, booking suspects, attending Neighborhood Watch meetings, fill out more paperwork-"

I cut in then, just to let him know I got the hint about the paperwork.

He smiled. "Good." He sighed and then said "It's a thankless job, Jimmy. No one likes a cop - especially after the bad press we've been getting. We're overworked, understaffed, underpaid and unappreciated. If you - if _someone_," he corrected. "Were to come in and ask about being a police officer..."

I waited for a second. He seemed to be waiting for me to speak so I offered "You'd tell them to do something else?"

Uncle Pete shook his head. "I'd tell them it's the best job ever."

I thought he was joking. I really did - for about half a second. Then I asked him why. I mean, with everything that's stacked against them, and all the work they have to do with zero thanks, I couldn't imagine why anyone would want to do it.

"Because for me - and thousands of other people like me - it really is." Uncle Pete leaned forward. "If a person is looking for a job where they get a pat on the back every time they do something right, this isn't the job for them. No one is going to thank them for writing them a ticket or issuing a warning or locking them up. Nobody is happy to deal with the police, Jimmy."

That didn't make any sense to me. First of all, there must be _some_ times when people are happy to see a cop; and second, if it's such a terrible job why do it?

Uncle Pete must've seen the confusion on my face. He said "When people need cops they're not having the best day anyway." He paused and then asked me "Do you remember when I told you that people who become police officers are cops before they pin on a badge?" I nodded. "We do the job because we need to do what's _right._ 'To protect and to serve' isn't just a catchy phrase on a car door - it's why we do what we do. Without fanfare or ticker-tape parades. The best feeling ever is knowing that the woman you gave a ticket to for not wearing a seatbelt has a better chance of getting home alive if she's in an accident. Or the guy you threw in the drunk tank won't be behind the wheel _causing_ that accident. Or that the scumbag that shot the old man behind the shop counter for fifty bucks is now behind bars because _you caught him._" He took a deep breath. "_That's_ why we do it, Jimmy. Because we _need_ to be the ones who put things right, who keep people safe."

I thought of Mr. Cassavetes and Mr. Harada. I thought of how I'd feel if someone came into the store and hurt them for a few lousy bucks. Sad, sure, but I'd want to make things right for them - for them, and for anyone else trying to make a living.

Then I thought about my dad. About how even though it was tearing apart his marriage he just couldn't turn his back and walk away from the job. Where once I thought it should've been simple for him I could see now how that couldn't happen. Even with his home life he was always trying to do the right thing - being there when he was needed, making sure we had enough to live on, picking up me and Mike every time he was supposed to... and making up for it when he couldn't. When I wanted Mom to come on the camping trips, he probably did too but badgering her about it wasn't the right thing to do, so he didn't.

I couldn't believe I didn't see it before. Everything - _everything_ \- about Dad was like that. Whether it was what he wanted or not, whether he agreed with it or not, he always did the right thing. He always looked out for others before he looked after himself. It wasn't just his job but his way of life. It was a real eye-opener... And seriously humbling. Maybe my dad never got a ticker-tape parade but he certainly deserved one.

Now I understood Uncle Pete's comment. People with an inborn sense of right and selflessness who joined the police force were already cops - the badge just made it official. The long hours and endless paperwork and bad attitudes from the public were the necessary evils they had to deal with in order to be able to do what they were born to do: protect and serve.

* * *

July 10, 1986

I spent so much time writing all that out that by the time I stopped, my hand was cramping up and my shoulder hurt like a sonofagun. I was lying on my stomach on my bed while I wrote and was propped up on my left elbow so I could write. I didn't intend to quit there but I got to remembering it all and thinking about my dad again and I just fell asleep.

Anyway, after all of that went through my head I started thinking about me - comparing myself to my dad. I remembered how I'd behaved when they got divorced and the way I kept acting up just because I didn't like the house or my school. I remembered how I'd get mad at Mikey for pitching a fit and all the times I only thought about what I wanted and how unfair life was to me. I still feel pretty ashamed when I think about it. I owe them a huge apology.

Then when I could feel my face getting hot and my eyes beginning to sting with tears I started to go back through everything and try to figure out what my dad would've done. I know he wouldn't have had all the temper tantrums I did but then he was a lot older than me so maybe that wasn't too terrible. The incident at school with Theo and his friends... he probably would've done the same thing. Taking on more of the work at home - I know he would've done that. After a while I figured I wasn't doing too badly. I'd just have to try harder.

My biggest regret was not being able to apologize to my dad for the way I'd behaved. It was then I remembered Uncle Pete telling me about not waiting to say what I wanted to because it might be too late. It was certainly too late now. I wondered if he understood at the time - and, if he'd lived, if he would've forgiven me for it. I could only hope so.

When I finally looked up, Uncle Pete was drinking a cup of coffee and there was a can of soda sitting on the edge of his desk right in front of me. I hadn't even noticed when he left the room or when he came back. My surprise must've shown on my face because he said something about hoping it was the right kind and I nodded. A moment later he asked if I had any other questions.

I could only think of one. After all of that I was really nervous about asking it but I did anyway. I don't think Uncle Pete was expecting it.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N:** This begins the part of the story where one long journal entry will be broken into two parts. Looking ahead, I can see this will happen a lot in future. So when you encounter a chapter with no date at the top, it's a continuation of the previous journal entry. Clear as mud? Here we go...

* * *

June 17, 1986

At first I was going to write the rest of my conversation with Uncle Pete on the next day - the 11th - but I decided to wait. I think it's only fitting that I tell what happened to him on this date. I'm going to write all this out at once - no matter how long it takes.

When Uncle Pete asked me if I had any other questions, I looked him right in the eye and said "What happened to Dad?"

He kind of flinched, like he'd been hit, and then he looked at the picture on his desk - the one of him and my dad. Then he closed his eyes for a second, took a deep breath, looked at me and said "I thought your mother would've told you."

Mom told me Dad was working and he got shot. She said his injury was too severe for the doctors to help him and he died. I never knew the details and I never wanted to ask. Not her, anyway. I knew Uncle Pete would tell me though. I shook my head.

He glanced at the picture again, leaned forward on the desk and twisted his fingers together. I kind of felt bad then because it looked like remembering was hurting him so I told him to forget it. He just shook his head and asked "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

I couldn't be sure but I had to know and I said so.

He nodded once and then began speaking in a voice so quiet I had to lean forward to hear him. The entire time he talked, he never looked at me - he just kept staring at the photograph on his desk.

"Your dad was a detective with Narcotics Division. He got his first taste of it back when we were partners together - and let me tell you, he didn't like it. At all. Narcotics - or 'Vice', as we call them - had to rub elbows with the seediest characters society has to offer. They have to talk like them, act like them, look like them... I don't know how many showers Jim took on a regular basis but when he was working Vice, he had at least one a day - sometimes more. Dealing with those types of characters makes you feel dirty.

When he made detective, initially he worked for Internal Affairs. That's the department that investigates the police officers themselves. They police the police. They aren't the most popular people in the department, let me tell you. Nobody likes finding out IAD is paying attention to them. Most of the time it turns out the allegations are false but someone has to investigate and that's what they do.

Jim had been working with IAD for about six months when him and your mom split up." I winced. "I don't know all the details behind it but Jim told me some. You see... When he was working Vice the first time around, I got hurt and your dad rescued me. He got the Medal for that."

I knew about the Medal of Valor my dad received, I just didn't know how he'd gotten it or that Uncle Pete had gotten hurt. I wanted to ask about that, too, but I needed to hear this more so I didn't interrupt him.

"When that happened, I know your mom was pretty upset. Things were tense between them for a while but then it all cooled down and I figured the worst was over. I didn't know that they'd heated up again after he made detective." He barked a short laugh. "He was my best man at my wedding and I had no idea he and Jean were drawing up divorce papers."

There was a long pause as he stared at the picture. Finally, he seemed to shrug a little as though dismissing his thoughts and went on. "After they split up, Jim started feeling out the other departments. I knew he didn't want to work for IAD - they're too methodical, too much into bookwork and the like. Jim preferred to be in a position to do something active. Something positive. Plus he was looking for more money..."

I hung my head. I knew now why he wanted more money and the thought made me feel guilty.

"Once Vice found out he was looking for a change of pace, they made him a great offer. Detective 2nd grade, his own crew and a raise. They knew he didn't want to be out doing the grunt work again but they wanted him bad. He was a great cop." Uncle Pete smiled a little at the picture and drew in a shaky breath. He said again "A great cop."

I could feel my own eyes start to sting with tears. When Uncle Pete looked at me I gave him a small smile of my own, just to let him know I understood how he felt.

He leaned back in the chair, rubbed a hand over his cheek and said "Where was I?"

"Vice division," I offered. "Detective 2nd grade."

"Right... right," Uncle Pete answered with a nod. He leaned forward again but this time he looked directly at me and only glanced at the picture from time to time. "So once Vice got hold of him, they didn't start him out small like a lot of other departments would've. Most would've let him get a feel for the department first - get his feet wet, kind of thing - but not those guys. They gave him the hard stuff first and then sat back to see if he'd sink or swim."

"What happened?" I asked.

Uncle Pete smirked. "What d'you think? Your dad showed them all. His team had the biggest close record of all time. Eighty-two percent. Unheard of."

I frowned. "Eighty-two percent?"

"That's a big deal," Uncle Pete explained. "We're talking cases _closed_, here, Junior. Not arrests. Cases that _stuck._ The bad guys got caught _and_ they went to jail." He leaned back. "When your dad made an arrest it was a lock - every 'I' dotted and every 'T' crossed. There was no way the court wouldn't get a conviction."

"Wow" was all I could say.

Uncle Pete nodded but his expression turned sad. "Unfortunately, when you're that good you're bound to make some pretty powerful enemies..."

I let him sit for a minute while he reminisced. Just when I was about to say something to bring him back to the present, Uncle Pete said "There was a gang that ran a large portion of the drug business in LA. Jim had managed to close down a lot of the dealers but he wanted the big bosses that ran it all. He worked long, long hours building a case against them. Every little bit of evidence, every witness statement, every informant - he ran them all down. He was going to put a huge part of the LA drug business behind bars.

Whenever your dad said he was working undercover," Uncle Pete went on. "It wasn't strictly true. His _people_ were working undercover but your dad was right there monitoring surveillance, interrogating suspects, running down leads... You name it. As soon as the bust was over he'd go back to the office and make sure the case was airtight before calling it a night. I told him more than once that he was gonna burn himself out but he was determined. No matter how much he didn't like it the first time around, Jim gave it his all the second time. He was like a man possessed." His voice trailed off.

I tried to stay quiet but my curiosity was killing me. "What happened?"

Uncle Pete looked at the picture again. "That night..." he began slowly. "I just had this... _feeling._ Something big was going to happen. I didn't know what or who or when..." He looked at me. "You gotta remember, Jimmy - I had my own set of responsibilities by then. I wasn't just cruising around in a squad car anymore. I had a whole shift of officers to look after and for all I knew, the feeling could've been about any one of them." I nodded. "But it was there," he went on. "This sick, churning sensation gnawing at my gut, telling me something was gonna happen. I even went so far as to have dispatch run a status check on my watch, just to make sure everything was alright.

When that was done and I knew my officers were okay, I decided to call over to Vice and see how Jim was doing. We had a long talk - he was pretty upset and needed someone to lean on."

"What was he upset about?" I asked.

Uncle Pete shook his head. "The case he was currently working on... It seemed like the suspects knew they were coming every time Jim tried to catch up to them. He was worried someone in his crew was tipping them off."

"Were they?"

He nodded. "It came out in the trial - one of his officers was actually a mole. He'd call in every time there was a raid scheduled."

I could feel my blood begin to boil. It's not bad enough that scumbags like that were peddling dope on the streets... To have one of their own turn on them was unforgivable. I clenched my hands together and forced myself to take slow breaths to calm down - something I'd learned during my school days.

"They - the big bosses - knew they wouldn't get much of anywhere by taking out the cops doing the field work. They were only following orders. If they wanted to take down the dog at their heels, they had to cut off its head." I nodded. As much as I didn't like it, it only made sense. "They started putting feelers out - seeing if they could find the undercover cops that had managed to sneak into their crews. A few of them got made and had to be pulled out but the big boys weren't happy with that - they wanted to know who was in charge.

Eventually they found one of the drug dogs that had a price." I looked at him in confusion. "Someone that could be bought," he explained. "Once they had him on their side, they started pressing him for information on Jim - where he went, what kind of car he drove, his family..."

"Us?"

Uncle Pete nodded. "Your dad figured out there was a mole in the department so he started changing things up - switching schedules, changing duties - to see if he could figure out who it was."

_**Continued...**_


	19. Chapter 19

My mind was racing. "So that last time he went undercover - when he said he didn't know how long it would take..."

"...He was staying away from you guys to keep you safe," Uncle Pete confirmed. "You'd just moved not long before so the chances of them finding out where you went were pretty slim." He leaned on the desk. "The night he... the night it happened, he told me he'd just figured out who the mole was. Someone he wouldn't have suspected. Most of the cops working Vice have a personal reason for being there - for doing that kind of work - and are pretty much untouchable. This one cop, though, had a girlfriend who was expecting a baby. They used that to get to him."

"That's no excuse!" I blurted out.

"No," Uncle Pete agreed. "It isn't. But it's a reason. There's a lot of things that guy should've done when they started putting the pressure on him but he didn't. We'll never know why. It's in the past." He sighed. "When I got done talking to Jim," he went on. "I told him about the bad feeling I was getting and I warned him to be careful. I know he took it seriously - we always had this _thing_ between us, so I know he didn't just blow it off - but in the end it wasn't enough."

I tensed. This was the part I'd been wanting - and dreading - to hear.

Staring at the photo again, Uncle Pete said "He left the office that night shortly after we hung up. Apparently he went to the motor pool and signed out a different car, just to be on the safe side. It's assumed he was heading home by a different route because when we found him, he wasn't on one of the streets he usually took to go back to his apartment."

"We?" I whispered.

Uncle Pete nodded, swallowed hard and said "When the call came in for a car blocking traffic, dispatch said the plate was one of ours. I caught the call and headed out right away - it wasn't far from here. I was one of the first on scene." My eyes misted up at the thought of what he must've gone through. "When I got there..." He paused and cleared his throat. Sitting up straight, he went on as though reading from a report. "There was a sedan with department-registered plates sitting midway through the intersection, blocking traffic in both directions. The officers on scene reported that they'd called for EMS personnel and an ambulance. When I inspected the car, it was apparent that it'd been fired upon multiple times by what seemed to be a high-caliber weapon. The glass was shattered and Detective Reed was sitting in the driver's seat, slumped over the wheel. He was bleeding from several wounds, including one in the left arm, two in his torso and one in the left side of his neck." I gasped but he didn't pause. "One of the officers was holding pressure on his neck wound while the other was trying to apply dressings to the wounds in his torso. I took over for the one at his neck and told the officer to direct traffic so as not to hold up the ambulance or rescue crews."

When he was done, Uncle Pete kind of slumped a bit in his chair as though the energy had been sapped out of him. I waited quietly while he regrouped and continued his story. When he did, it was without the clinical delivery of before.

"That was the longest five minutes of my life, Jimmy," he said softly. "Six, actually, once you factor in the extra minute I had to stand there while the EMS crew got into position to take over. Six minutes of holding my best friend's life in my hand, knowing that it wasn't going to be enough."

"You did what you could, Uncle Pete," I said, keeping my voice gentle. "It wasn't your fault he died."

He nodded. "I know that now but it was a long, hard road getting here," he said. "There were a few casualties along the way."

"Aunt Judy and David?"

"And others," he agreed. "I was messed up for a while. It wasn't the first time I've lost a partner..."

"...But the first time you lost a friend that way," I finished for him. Uncle Pete took a deep breath and nodded again. "I'm sorry."

He blinked and looked up at me. "What for?"

"For making you go through all that again," I answered. "And for causing you more pain."

"It's not _more _pain, Junior," Uncle Pete said with a wry smile. "It's _old_ pain. And as time goes by, it hurts a little less."

I shook my head. "I don't mean just that," I said. It was important that I make him understand. "I mean for adding to it by not talking to you all these years. I never once thought of what you might be going through - all I could think of was myself. How hurt and angry _I_ was. Never mind what anyone else might've been going through. You needed us back then and I pushed you away."

He smiled. "I understood, Jimmy," he said.

"That doesn't make it right," I insisted. "If it wasn't for me, Mom would've kept in touch with you - you would've had us to lean on when... when everything fell apart."

"She _did_ keep in touch with me," Uncle Pete replied. "She just stopped calling me from the house because she didn't want to upset you." I thought about that for a minute. It explained his lack of surprise when I told him about UCLA. "I even went to your graduation - although you didn't know I was there."

That one knocked me for a loop. I had no idea he'd gone to my graduation. It sparked an ember of warmth in my chest, though. Having Uncle Pete there was almost like having my dad there. For some reason just knowing it made me feel better than I had in a long time.

His smile faded when he said "I tried to help him, Jimmy, but it wasn't enough. The doctors said it helped keep him alive long enough to get to the hospital but in the end, he'd just lost too much blood. They pushed IVs into him but it was leaking out faster than they could get it in."

I had to know. "How many wounds did he have?"

"Five, all told," he replied. "There was another in his leg. They had four doctors and six nurses waiting for him at the hospital. He arrested twice in the ambulance." He shook his head. "There was nothing they could do."

"Did you go with them?" I asked. "In the ambulance, I mean?"

He shook his head. "I had to stay to secure the scene. Once I got a field sergeant to take over, though, I broke a whole slew of regulations getting to the hospital."

"And?"

"It was too late," he said, his tone flat. "They let me in to see him but by then he was already gone."

Silence fell between us. It dragged out for several minutes before I thought of something else that had been nagging at me. "What happened to the guys who did it?"

Uncle Pete rubbed his forehead with one finger. "We managed to catch the shooter and the guy who drove the car they were in," he said. "I won't bore you with the details. As for the bosses behind it all..."

"You couldn't get them," I offered.

He shook his head. "There was never enough evidence," he said. "We turned over every rock, rooted out every weasel and scumbag we could find but we couldn't pin it on them. The guys that carried out the shooting were locked up and that was it - case closed."

I looked at him carefully, noticing something else in his eyes. "But you never let it go, did you?" I asked.

He smiled. "You really are like your old man," he said. "No, I didn't." He opened one of the drawers in his desk and took out a folder that was at least two inches thick and overflowing with paper. "It's never very far away," he confessed.

I couldn't resist a little dig. "Uncle Pete - you _do_ know about a thing we have nowadays called a computer, right?"

"Nobody likes a smart mouth, Junior," he snapped back. "I'm not so old I can't kick your scrawny butt around the block."

I studied him. He might've had a few more wrinkles in his face, his hair might've been whiter than I remembered, and he might've been a little thicker around the middle... but I didn't doubt for a minute that he could.

* * *

July 12, 1986

Getting all of that out in the open (so to speak) took a lot out of me. By the time I finished it was well after two in the morning and I was exhausted. I slept so long that Mom came and checked on me to make sure I was alright. I'm not normally a late sleeper.

One thing I realized right away, though, was that Howard Blankenship was right. When I woke up the next afternoon I felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders and, for the first time, I felt almost normal again. I'd been so long just going through the motions that it wasn't until I'd gotten it all down on paper that I realized I hadn't really been living. I felt... cleansed.

Of course that also meant that I had to go and get another notebook. I looked at my stash of journals the other day and I have quite a few - eight, to be exact. I'd probably only be on my fourth or fifth book by now but my handwriting used to be really messy. I also used to double-space my writing.

Anyway, once that was all down on paper, I went through a long period of time where I didn't feel like writing. Not because I was sick of it but because I kind of felt like I'd run out of things to say.

College starts next month. I've got a campus orientation scheduled for next week and then a meeting with a guidance counselor to get some of my classes changed. After listening to Uncle Pete talk about Dad making sure he had a solid case for trial, I finally decided on my major...

I'm going to be a lawyer.


	20. Chapter 20

August 30, 1986

College isn't what I thought it would be.

First of all, the campus is split up into two sections, North and South. Not officially, but they're called 'North Campus' and 'South Campus'. Which is doubly weird because they're actually both on the _east_ side of the UCLA campus. Very confusing.

My classes are at the North Campus. It's the older section of the university so all the buildings are really cool-looking brick monstrosities. The South Campus is newer and has gardens and stuff - I sometimes go there to hang out or study or whatever. My favorite is the law library building, though - it's amazing.

I live in a building called Dykstra Hall. It's a high-rise and it's pretty noisy most of the time. On my floor alone there's something like 50 kids coming and going all the time and we share a bathroom kind of like in high school. I'd really like to get into one of the places on the plaza but there's a waiting list so for now I'm stuck here. Like I said, I usually hang out on the South Campus or at the library because it's quieter.

Also, because I actually _live_ in LA, I'm pretty much at the bottom of the waiting list for one of the other residences. I guess they figure if I can't hack campus living I can always move back home. It's tempting but the commute would cancel out any of the positive aspects. I still go home some weekends and during breaks and stuff though.

My building is co-ed but it's divided by floor, meaning guys get one floor and girls another so it's not like we're actually all living together. All in all it's not bad. I like the fact that it's an old building, too, but it certainly could use an upgrade here and there. At least there's a restaurant on the ground floor. I don't go there often - there's a microwave oven in our room, thanks to one of my roommates - but every once in a while it's nice to have a proper meal instead of TV dinners.

The first week was orientation week complete with weird initiation rituals. I managed to avoid most of them. Also there's been a couple of guys who have approached me about joining a fraternity. I thought about it for a while but it seems like all they do is party.

* * *

November 8, 1986

I'm home for the weekend and it's my birthday. Uncle Pete came today and we barbecued - or, rather, I barbecued. I think he was impressed.

I forgot to mention that after I talked to Uncle Pete at his office that day, I went home and told Mom that I'd gone to see him. She didn't say much about it but I got the feeling she didn't know whether to be happy that we were talking again or not. Either way, she didn't say anything against it and even suggested that I invite Uncle Pete this weekend. I guess she's mostly alright with it.

He's taking me to a Lakers game at The Forum tomorrow. I'm not really a basketball fan but I didn't want to disappoint him. It'll be the first time we've done something together in almost seven years. Even if I don't like the game it'll be good to spend some time with him.

I know I've missed writing in here for a couple of months but I've been really busy. Once orientation week ended and we started our classes for real, everything got overwhelming really fast. In fact, today is the first time I've been away from my dorm since I started. I've been spending every weekend studying and trying to keep up with my assignments. Apparently one of my professors is new this year and it seems like he's trying to prove he's worthy or something because he assigns more work than the rest of them put together. I'm just hoping he'll have relaxed a bit by the time the second semester starts or I'll be burned out before the year is over.

This is just the beginning. It takes four years for the undergrad degree and then another three before you can take the bar exam to be an actual lawyer. I do get some classes on criminal law but mostly we're just learning general law stuff. From what I've seen so far, I _definitely_ don't want to get into corporate law. Talk about boring.

I have to break off here. I still have laundry to do and it's already after ten.

* * *

November 9, 1986

The game was great. I've never really been into basketball but I guess there's a big difference between watching it on TV and seeing it live. Lakers won against the Knicks 111 to 88. The crowd at The Forum was huge - Uncle Pete said there were over 17 thousand people there. You sure could hear them all when the final buzzer went, believe me.

I hope I can see Uncle Pete more now. I didn't realize how much I missed having him around.

* * *

December 20, 1986

School's closed until January 5th for winter break. Not that I'm getting any sort of holiday - I've got two papers due for when we get back.

Mom's invited Uncle Pete to be with us for the holidays. He said he'd check his schedule and let her know. I'm hoping he says yes but we'll see. At least he's calling the house directly now.

I'll write more later. I've got to start on those papers, Mike's pestering me to come play Super Mario with him, and I'm starving.

* * *

December 24, 1986

Uncle Pete came to drop off some things to go under the tree. He'll be back tomorrow for supper and to open presents. Mom invited him to stay on the pull-out sofa for the night but even Mike could tell she was just being polite. Uncle Pete turned her down by saying he was getting too old for sleepovers and was going home.

Mike and I talked about it later. He's getting pretty smart, actually. He figures Mom's uneasy about my renewed friendship with Uncle Pete because she doesn't want him talking me into joining the police force. I gave that some thought and decided he must be right - it explains the way she acts whenever he's around. On the one hand, we all know she likes having Uncle Pete visit but when he's actually here she acts like she's waiting for something bad to happen.

So when supper was over and Mike was doing the dishes, I went into the living room where Mom was watching the news and had a talk with her. I started the conversation with the less-than-stellar statement 'Uncle Pete is my godfather'. Mom just gave me a funny smile and told me she was aware of the fact.

We talked about how she kept in touch with Uncle Pete over the years (something she apologized for, though I don't blame her for it) and I told her that I knew she was worried about me but I was going to college, not the police academy.

She said something weird then: that although I might be going to college now, I still had a few years to consider my future and whereas she'd be happy if I became a lawyer, she wanted me to be a lawyer because I _wanted_ to be, not to please her. She said my happiness shouldn't depend on hers and I was supposed to do what was best for me - whether she liked it or not.

I told her I was pretty sure about the lawyer thing but if I decided to drop out and become a street artist, I promised not to come around begging for food. At least she laughed at that.

We talked for a while longer and I think I put her mind at ease about the police thing. I guess we'll find out tomorrow when Uncle Pete gets here.

* * *

December 25, 1986

I guess it worked. Mom was really relaxed when Uncle Pete came by today. I think she'll be okay now.

* * *

December 27, 1986

Yesterday was Boxing Day. Mike and I went to Macy's to exchange a couple of things that I'd gotten from Mom that were too small. I didn't realize what a madhouse it was going to be.

First of all, the place was packed. We had a tough time getting around. Once we finally got to the customer service desk the lineup stretched almost halfway back to the entrance so we had to turn around and go back the way we came just to join it.

We'd been standing there for about ten minutes when I saw a couple of kids roughhousing near one of the displays. I figured it wouldn't be long before they knocked into it and broke everything and, sure enough, one kid pushed the other into a shelving unit. Luckily it only had sweaters on it but when it tipped, it fell over onto a table nearby and dumped everything out.

The two kids took off as soon as it happened, of course. I got out of line and went over to stand the shelf up again even though Mike told me if I did I'd lose my place. I thought he'd stay to hold it but he came over to give me a hand.

It turned out to be a good thing we did because underneath the pile of sweaters was a little old lady. She'd been standing between the shelf and the table and, when it tipped over, it knocked her down. Mike started panicking and asking if she was dead but she wasn't. I told him to go get some help and stayed there with her until the manager came. He said he called for paramedics and then started to accuse me of knocking the display over. I admit I was surprised by that - it never occurred to me that someone would blame me for what happened.

Mike was trying to tell him that it wasn't me but the guy wasn't listening. Even when the paramedics showed up and checked her out and said she'd be alright he was still ranting about how he was going to press charges and see that she did, too.

Right about the time I was ready to lose my cool, a few people who'd been standing in line with us came over and told the guy I was only helping out. He apologized to me for overreacting and someone said I should be the one pressing charges. The manager looked real worried when he heard that.

I'll admit I thought about it for a second but then I remembered my vow to try and be more like my dad in the future. I told the manager to forget it and went back to the lineup. I thought Mike and I would have to start all the way back at the beginning but it turned out some people saved our spot for us. A couple of times folks would try to convince us to go ahead of them in line but I said 'no' - even though it was making Mike really mad every time I did it. We only had to wait another fifteen minutes or so anyway, so I didn't see what the big deal was about.

* * *

January 18, 1987

I just got off the phone with Jason. Last Thursday was his birthday and he's put in his application to the fire department.

I didn't tell him I think he's nuts.

* * *

February 28, 1987

Just about missed this month. School's been pretty intense this semester. I've heard from a few people it just gets worse from here on in. Yippee.

I forgot to mention I got a letter from Macy's a while back. It was a formal apology for 'the incident on their premises' - I take that to mean the manager wigging out - and a gift certificate for $50 'for my trouble'.

I gave the gift certificate to Mom so she could buy herself something nice.

* * *

April 12, 1987

I'm doing my best but I just don't have time to keep this updated. I'll do better over the summer - I hope.

I don't know why I ever thought I could be a lawyer. Talk about dry subject matter. I think if I have to go over one more tort or clause or codicil I'm going to go bonkers. Really.

Jason called me today. Apparently his application to the fire department got turned down. He said it was only temporary, as they go by a lottery system to pick recruits.

This time I did tell him he was nuts. He proved it by laughing at me.


	21. Chapter 21

June 29, 1987

School's out for the summer. I went to Mr. Harada and talked him into giving me a temporary position at the store - with the provision that I get July 4th off. He was pretty good about it.

I also sat down and had a long talk with Jason. I told him I didn't really mean it when I said he was nuts - I didn't, really. I can sort of see why he wants to join up - and encouraged him to keep trying. Maybe with the city or some of the surrounding areas. He really wants to be a county firefighter, though, so I told him I'd vouch for him if he needed a reference. He asked if I thought he had a chance and I told him the truth: he's got a better chance of getting in than anyone I know. All he has to do is stick with it.

The only other thing that's happened lately has to do with Uncle Pete. He called me a couple of weeks ago and invited me to go car-shopping with him. I said 'yes' and by the end of the day he was the owner of a brand-new Pontiac Bonneville. It's a nice little car - if you like that sort of thing.

Which leads me to the second half of the 'other thing that happened'. I thought Uncle Pete was going to trade in his old car (he still had the convertible) but after all the paperwork was done on his new car, he took me to the DMV and signed his old one over to me. Now I have a car of my own... and I don't drive.

Don't get me wrong. It's not that I don't like driving or that I'm afraid of it or can't do it - I actually am a pretty good driver - it's just that I don't want to.

It sounds kind of strange, I know. I tried explaining it to my mom when she found out I'd be taking driving class at school. She was almost as excited as all the other kids that were taking the class. I, on the other hand, didn't really care. Since I started having to take the bus to school back in my freshman year, I found I actually liked having someone else take me where I wanted to go. Once I took the classes and got my license though, Mom was always trying to get me to take the car whenever I was going to hang with my friends.

Mike was the one who clued me in on the fact that Mom thought I was embarrassed to be seen driving her old wagon. It didn't even occur to me that she might think that. I went to her and explained it had nothing to do with embarrassment - I just didn't want to drive. I told her if I ever felt like driving instead of taking the bus, I'd be more than happy to borrow her car if she didn't need it. Otherwise... I wouldn't. I can count on one hand how often I took her up on that arrangement, too.

So there I was, caught between a rock and a hard place. I didn't want to turn Uncle Pete down on his generous offer but I also didn't really have any use for a car. I didn't know what to do.

After we got done at the DMV, though, Uncle Pete took me to a diner for lunch. While we were waiting for our orders he told me that he'd talked to my mom about the car and knew how I felt about driving. That only made me more confused. If he knew how I felt about driving, why was he giving me his car?

He told me that I might find I actually needed one at some point so now I had one. He also said it had had regular maintenance over the years and the mileage was low, so I really should just smile and say 'thanks'.

That only served to remind me that I had a lot to thank him for, the car being the least important. I told him how much I appreciated being able to go to college and that I was grateful for his helping to make that happen. He got a little sad, then. When I asked him what was wrong he didn't answer right away and then our food came so we dropped the subject.

After lunch, instead of going back to the car we went for a walk. It was really nice out and there was a huge park nearby so we headed that way. Uncle Pete asked me a few questions like did I still like running and did I ever listen to the records he gave me way back when.

Funny enough, I _do_ listen to those old jazz albums. I have a ghetto blaster at school but when I'm home I use the record player. For some strange reason listening to jazz helps my brain settle down and lets me unwind. I fully expected him to laugh when I told him that but he just nodded his head.

A while later we happened upon a bench near a duck pond and Uncle Pete sat down on it. I stood there for a minute watching the ducks and then I did too. I'd just gotten comfortable when Uncle Pete started talking again.

He told me about his marriage, for starters. In his case, it wasn't like Mom and Dad where they were fighting over the job all the time and finally decided to split up. Apparently he and Aunt Judy were getting along fine... until David got in trouble.

I guess having a cop for a stepfather didn't stop David from getting involved with the wrong crowd. Uncle Pete came home early from work one day and as soon as he walked into the house he could smell pot. David was supposed to be at work but stayed home instead and invited a few of his friends over for a little party.

I can just imagine how he must've felt, coming home to that. On the one hand he was a cop and had strict rules to follow for that sort of thing but on the other hand David was his stepson - he didn't want him thrown in jail. I don't know what I'd do in that situation.

Apparently neither did he. His first reaction was to put them all under arrest but in the end he confiscated all their stuff, flushed the pot down the toilet and sent them home. For the ones that didn't live close he either called a cab or called their parents to come pick them up. Once they were all gone he sat down with David to have a talk.

Everything I thought I knew about David went out the window then. I guess he didn't like the idea of having his party broken up early and basically flipped out on Uncle Pete. Aunt Judy came home then and between the two of them they managed to get David calmed down - at least until Uncle Pete said he was going to toss his room.

In the end Uncle Pete confiscated more pot, a bunch of paraphernalia and some pills. I guess there wasn't enough to be considered anything more than a misdemeanor so he flushed the drugs and smashed the pipes and stuff. Then he and Aunt Judy sat down and had a long talk with David.

He promised them he wouldn't do it anymore but Uncle Pete didn't believe him. He told David he was going to be inspecting his room and getting him to turn out his pockets from now on. David pitched another fit and stormed off to his room - but then Uncle Pete and Aunt Judy got into it. She believed what David told them and Uncle Pete didn't. Not really. He wanted to but he'd seen people like David before and knew that it was only a matter of time before he was back at it again.

Uncle Pete told me he was heartbroken the next time he found David carrying. It was just a few pills but it was enough. He got into a huge argument with David and then, when Aunt Judy found out about it, got into an argument with her, too. In the end, he told Aunt Judy that he wouldn't have it in his house - he _was_ a cop, after all - and she said she wasn't going to side with him against David.

They - Aunt Judy and David - moved out the next day. Aunt Judy (although I guess now I should just call her 'Judy') filed for divorce shortly afterwards. Uncle Pete didn't talk to her again but he did see a lot of her lawyer. He sold the house and gave her half, and she didn't want alimony. Last he heard she was still working at the same place she was before but David had been in and out of jail a couple of times.

I figured it wasn't a good time to ask him why cops ever get married.

* * *

July 10, 1987

I guess all that practice I get at school taking notes is paying off. I didn't even realize that last entry was so long until I went back and reread it.

A funny thing happened today. Although I've known for a long time that Mr. Harada had two kids, I've only ever met his son Tom (Toma). Today, though, I met his daughter Mei. I really don't know what to make of her.

For one thing, she's really shy. When Mr. Harada introduced us she kept her head down and only looked up once when she said 'hello'. Also, whereas both Mr. Harada and Tom are tall and kind of muscular, Mei is really tiny. I don't mean she's short - although she is - but she's _tiny._ Like 'don't touch or she'll break' kind of tiny. According to Tom she takes after their mother, though, so I guess it's not all that strange.

The really strange part was that after she left (she went into the office to do her dad's books), I kept having to drag my attention back to what I was doing. Tom and I were supposed to be restocking the shelves but my mind kept wandering to Mei and how _tiny_ she was.

Mei is my age and Tom's a year younger. You wouldn't think it to look at them but it's true. If I didn't already know how old she was I would've guessed her at about twelve, honestly.

It's too bad I couldn't get a good look at her but I'll try describing her anyway. She's got really long, black hair that goes all the way down to the middle of her back. It was held together at the back of her neck with this red clip that had little flowers painted all over it. She's got long eyelashes and big brown eyes, a tiny little nose (which only makes sense, I guess) and a really nice smile. She was wearing a baggy sweatshirt over a polo shirt with a popped collar, acid wash jeans and high-tops. I swear she's gotta shop in the kid's section - I've never seen anyone my age who was that small.

I tried asking Tom if Mei went to college but he seemed to get kind of mad and all he'd say was 'yes'. He wouldn't tell me where. I don't know if he had a headache or what but shortly afterward he finished stacking the shelf of crackers and left. I guess being the boss's son has its privileges.

Mr. Harada came over a little while later and said I could leave early. He also said I could have the weekend off. I tried telling him I didn't mind working the weekend but he wouldn't have it. I don't really need to work but it would've been nice to see Mei again.


	22. Chapter 22

August 4, 1987

Mr. Harada said he doesn't need me to work at the store anymore. I thought about trying to get another job but school starts up again soon so I guess I'll wait until next summer. When I was at the store I saw Tom and tried to say goodbye but I guess he didn't hear me. He was heading for the meat locker anyway, so I guess he was busy. Mr. Harada said he'd tell him for me.

* * *

September 19, 1987

I might be mistaken but I think I saw Mei walking across the quad today. There can't be that many tiny Japanese girls here, can there?

* * *

September 22, 1987

It took a couple of days before I knew for sure but Mei _is_ going to school here. I found out from one of the girls in my civil rights class - apparently she sees her a lot in the locker room at the physical education building. She confirmed my suspicions, too: there _aren't_ a lot of tiny Japanese girls here. That's how she knew who I was talking about.

I tried telling Jason about her the last time he called but all he did was laugh at me and say "So go find her and ask her out already." I don't know if I should. For one thing, she's first year and I'm second so I can't really bump into her casually and ask her to go for coffee or something. Secondly, this year is starting out even tougher than the last one and I really should be concentrating on my classes instead. Jason made some stupid comment about 'all work and no play' but I really don't want to do anything that'll jeopardize my schoolwork. I don't want to let Mom and Uncle Pete down.

I'd really like to talk to her, though. I don't know what to do.

* * *

October 17, 1987

Last weekend was Thanksgiving. Uncle Pete came over and we had turkey with all the trimmings. I think that's probably my favorite meal ever. Mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, turkey, bean casserole, pumpkin pie... it just doesn't get any better than that, in my opinion.

I also got a chance to talk to Uncle Pete about Mei. Oddly enough, he thinks like Jason does - that I should ask her out. First, though, he wanted me to tell him about her and her family. I told him about Tom not talking to me and Mr. Harada saying I wasn't needed at the store anymore. Uncle Pete said I should be careful - that sometimes Japanese families were very traditional. He said that although it seemed obvious to him that I liked Mei, I had to be prepared for her to blow me off simply because I'm not Japanese.

I think I'll see if I can talk to Mei and see what she says.

* * *

November 8, 1987

I'm officially an adult now - at least according to my mom and Uncle Pete. I don't feel like an adult. Actually, I feel kind of the way I did when I was little and I found out my turtle was dead.

It's ridiculous, really. When George died I wasn't quite as old as Mike is now but I still remember how it felt and I know that's how I feel now. Like some part of me just shriveled up in a corner and died.

I guess that doesn't make any sense, given that I haven't said why. So here goes:

After I talked with Uncle Pete and gave it some more thought, I went back to the quad and looked for Mei so I could talk to her. It took a while but I finally did find her. I asked her if she wanted to go for dinner and she turned me down but she did agree to talk to me.

We went to a coffee shop just off campus that had little tables set out on a patio. Once we had our drinks and sat down, I told her that I liked her and wanted to get to know her better. Up until that point she hadn't looked at me but when I said that, she did and I was totally stuck. She has the prettiest eyes ever. I really wanted to see her smile again but she never did. She actually seemed kind of sad.

When I asked her what was the matter, she said she really liked me too but she couldn't be seen with me. I didn't understand that so I told her so. She said her family would be very angry if they found out she was talking to me.

I got really confused then. I knew Mr. Harada and he always seemed to like me. Tom and I used to be pretty friendly, too, and although I'd never met her mother I'm pretty sure we'd get along alright if she was anything like her husband. Also, I was studying to become a lawyer - that had to count for something with them.

Mei looked like she was about to cry. She told me she liked me the first time she saw me but she knew how her family would react - that's why she took off for the office after we were introduced. She'd seen me a few times around campus but she tried to make sure our paths didn't cross.

By that point I was feeling pretty rotten. There I was, in this nice coffee shop, with a girl I liked who liked me back and she couldn't talk to me in case her family ever found out. Not only that, but she'd spent the last two months hiding from me on campus. It wasn't fair. To her or to me.

I was about to tell her that we could still see each other if we were careful but then this little voice in my head said "What would Dad say?" That stopped me cold.

It _wasn't_ fair, no, but neither was asking her to sneak around behind her family's backs and go against their wishes. Despite how I felt about their traditions, I actually liked the Harada family - and I knew it would ruin any chance we'd have if I asked Mei to go out with me anyway. I had a feeling that she was expecting me to, and I'm pretty sure she would've if I'd asked, but I didn't do it.

Instead I told her it was okay and that I understood. I said she didn't need to hide from me - that I'd say 'hi' if I saw her but that was it. I didn't want her to have to worry. After all, she was there to go to school too. She shouldn't have to be watching over her shoulder all the time to see if I was gonna sneak up on her.

She laughed then. Such a beautiful, light laugh. It almost broke my heart. I had to stop myself from reaching out to hold her hand. Instead we finished our coffees, walked back to campus and went our separate ways. I've seen her a couple of times since then but I haven't talked to her again.

Sometimes life sucks.

* * *

December 19, 1987

Semester's over. Finals are done. I can't wait to get home for the break. Just writing this quick before I throw it in my bag and catch the bus.

* * *

December 23, 1987

This is going to be a depressing Christmas. Uncle Pete is in the hospital. The day after I got home we got a call from one of his sergeants telling us he'd been taken in by ambulance.

According to him, Uncle Pete was in a meeting with a few of his field supervisors when he suddenly stopped talking. They noticed he was pale and sweating and it looked like he was having trouble so they called the paramedics. The doctors at the hospital say he had a stroke.

He seems fine now but they're keeping him in for a while to keep an eye on him. That means he won't be here for Christmas. Maybe we can put it off until he gets out or maybe go see him. I'll ask Mom what she thinks after supper.

* * *

December 25, 1987

We packed up everything and went to see Uncle Pete in the hospital. He really does look like nothing happened but he told us his doctor said he had something called a 'reversible ischemic neurologic deficit' - meaning he had a stroke that lasted more than 24 hours but less than three days.

Mom said she wanted to talk to him alone so I took Mike down to the cafeteria and bought him a bowl of chocolate pudding. I haven't mentioned it before but if there's one thing you can bribe Mike with anytime for anything, it's chocolate pudding. The kid is a fiend for the stuff.

While we were down there Mike told me he wants to be a doctor when he grows up. I figured it was more because of Uncle Pete than Dad but he told me it wasn't just them. Apparently one of his friends at school was in the hospital there because he'd been hit by a car - and another kid he knew just got diagnosed with leukemia.

Since it didn't take him any time at all to power through the pudding I bought him, I asked him if he wanted to go see his friend who was in the accident. It took a little doing but I managed to persuade a nurse to give us the kid's room number. We went up and visited with him for about half an hour and then I told Mike we had to be getting back.

When we got back to Uncle Pete's room I could tell whatever he and Mom were talking about was pretty serious. They were both really quiet and pretending that everything was fine. We left right after that because visiting hours were over but I'm going to go back and see him tomorrow.

* * *

December 29, 1987

Today I took my car (Uncle Pete's old one) and went to the hospital to pick up Uncle Pete. Mom said she had some stuff to do so she couldn't go get him, which I thought was weird. Just this morning she was saying she didn't have anything she had to do and was going to watch TV and do some knitting. I figured whatever she and Uncle Pete talked about upset her enough that she didn't want to give him a ride so I said I'd do it.

Uncle Pete was doing great. You wouldn't think he'd had anything wrong with him by the way he was acting except that he seemed to get tired awful fast. I asked him where he wanted to go and he said he wanted a burger but by the time we got to the diner and went to order, he got a sandwich and some salad instead. When I mentioned it, he said his doctor said he should take it easy on the fried food.

I eventually got around to asking him about his conversation with Mom. I waited until we were back at his place and he was sitting in his recliner reading the paper (we picked it up on the way) before I said anything. At first I thought he wasn't going to tell me but then he put down the paper and said they'd been discussing what he was going to do now for work.

That surprised me. I didn't think his work would be effected at all, given how well he'd recovered. He said he had to reduce his stress levels so that it didn't happen again. Most people who have strokes either have a poor lifestyle or are predisposed for it but Uncle Pete is physically fit and doesn't have any bad habits like drinking a lot or smoking and it's not in his family history. His doctor figures it's the high stress level he has to deal with.

He kind of laughed when he said it. When I asked him why he said he was just remembering the stress they had to deal with back when he was working the streets with my dad and his current job was practically a vacation, compared. I asked him if he was going to quit being a cop and he just looked at me as if I'd asked him if he was going to go play in traffic or something.

He said he's been talking to his superiors and had something in the works but that was all he'd tell me.


	23. Chapter 23

January 2, 1988

Classes don't start again for a while. On the one hand I'm glad for the break but on the other I wish they'd start earlier. I'm getting bored.

I went to Mr. Harada's store today to pick up some milk. I thought it would be awkward but Tom was there and he was pretty friendly to me. I guess he must've talked to his sister. I wanted to ask if she was around but I didn't feel like making him mad at me again so I just bought the milk and left.

Uncle Pete is back at work, Mom says. I asked her if he was doing his old job and she said "For now" but wouldn't tell me what that meant. I hate it when people keep secrets.

* * *

February 22, 1988

I can't stand corporate law. That's it.

* * *

April 26, 1988

Last day of classes today. Revision next and then exams start on May 2. Normally I don't feel nervous about exams but I'm really sweating the corporate test. I'm going to fail that one, I know it.

* * *

May 6, 1988

Exams are over. Shoot me now. I can hardly wait to get out of here.

* * *

June 9, 1988

I just read the last few entries. I really don't have a lot to say lately.

My marks came in the mail. I didn't do too badly, really - except for corporate. I only got a B+ on that so my average dragged down to an A-. I knew I should've dropped that class.

Uncle Pete got a different job. He's still with the police department but now he's at the academy teaching classes. He also got a promotion to Captain third grade. I thought it was pretty cool but Mom didn't seem too impressed. The only thing she'd say about it was that at least it'll be easier on his health.

We went out for dinner with him to celebrate. I thought we'd be picking up the bill since it was a party for Uncle Pete but he paid for everything. Mom didn't say a word. I don't get her sometimes.

Tomorrow's Mike's birthday. Hard to believe he's going to be 12. He finally fits those runners I put in his closet way back when and he likes running too only he prefers to jog. Since I got home I've been taking him with me when I go out but we go at his speed until he's had enough. Then I drop him off at home and go for a short run by myself. It's not too bad, really.

I haven't gotten him anything for his birthday yet. Maybe I'll treat him to a movie or something.

* * *

July 16, 1988

Uncle Pete showed me around some of the academy today. We didn't tell Mom or Mike where we were going, just that we wanted to spend a little time together.

It was a little strange at first. When we were driving in I saw the arch and I immediately thought of the movie 'Police Academy' with Steve Guttenberg. I tried not to laugh (I've seen the movie - Larvell Jones was my favorite) but I must've made some kind of noise because Uncle Pete gave me an exasperated look and said "Not you too." I couldn't help it. It was really funny.

Anyway, he showed me the classrooms and the firing range and the obstacle course and a bunch of other places. He also showed me the administrative building and his office, which was cool. While we were looking around a bunch of trainees went jogging by us and I stopped to watch them. I remember thinking that once my dad was one of those guys - and so was Uncle Pete, of course - and he would've been jogging around that track with a bunch of recruits just like them.

I don't know what came over me then but the next thing I knew Uncle Pete was sitting me down on the bleachers and I was crying my eyes out. I mean, I did all my crying for Dad years ago but something inside me just snapped.

We must've sat there for a while - I don't know how long it was, really - but eventually the tears stopped and I apologized to Uncle Pete. He told me not to worry about it and gave me his handkerchief to clean my face (how many guys still carry those, really?) and then said it was time to go. We didn't go directly home, though. Uncle Pete drove around for a while and then we stopped for some ice cream before he took me home.

It was a good day, even with the crying jag. I don't know why.

* * *

August 18, 1988

School starts again on Monday. I'm starting to rethink the whole law degree thing. I've still got this year to do and one more after that and then I'll have my undergraduate degree - which is good - but then I'll have another three years of school before I get my law degree.

I knew that going in, of course, but now that I'm kind of in the middle of it all, it seems like an awfully long time. It doesn't help that Jason finally got accepted to the fire department academy and starts his training in November. By the time I get my undergrad, he's going to be done and working already. It doesn't seem fair.

I'm pretty sure my dad would tell me that life isn't fair and I should just be patient but this sucks.

* * *

September 17, 1988

If anything, this year is harder than last year. I can just imagine what next year is going to be like.

* * *

November 22, 1988

No turkey for me this year. I've got a ton of stuff I have to do and Thanksgiving falls almost in the middle of the week. Kind of sucks because Uncle Pete said he was going to bring something this year, too.

Maybe if I'm not there things won't be so tense between him and my mom.

* * *

December 26, 1988

I thought I was right about the whole 'if I'm not there' thing because Uncle Pete and Mom were kind of short with each other yesterday, and then Mike told me they're like that even when I'm not here.

Apparently Uncle Pete comes over quite a bit to visit with Mom and Mike while I'm at school. I'm not sure why, if they're not getting along. Mike says it's because they've known each other for so long that hanging out together is kind of a habit. I suppose he's right - he really is kind of smart for a kid - but still... If they're not comfortable around each other, why bother?

Right before I left for Christmas break I was coming out of the laundry room and bumped into Jenny - the girl I loaned my jacket to back in high school. We went to the same coffee shop where I took Mei and stayed there for a couple of hours at least. She told me all about her family (I had a hard time pretending it was new information to me) and told me about her classes here. She's studying medicine. I told her about Mike wanting to be a doctor and she said some of her dad's best friends were doctors. Then she asked me if he knew what kind of doctor he wanted to be. I didn't know so I said "There isn't a lot of different kinds, are there?" and she went off about all the different kinds she knew about. I didn't realize there were that many.

Then I asked her what she was studying medicine for and she said she wanted to be a pediatrician. I must've gotten a funny look on my face because she told me not to laugh at her. I assured her that I wasn't. She then went on for about ten minutes about the virtues of pediatric medicine. I let her talk for a while about it and just listened. I have to admit it sounds kind of interesting. But then, I thought she was an interesting girl back in high school so I guess it only makes sense.

We're going to get together again when school reopens. She's kind of fun.

* * *

January 15, 1989

I think I blew it with Jenny.

She was telling me about her dad and brother in the fire department and I told her about Jason. I didn't mean to but I told her about telling Jason I thought he was nuts.

She got really mad at me. I tried telling her I didn't mean it but she wasn't listening. Did I mention that she's got red hair? Back when I met her in high school I thought it was blonde but I think now it was because of the crappy lighting at that dance. She actually has really light red hair - like a strawberry blonde, I guess. At any rate, it's enough red to give her a short temper. She says she gets it from her mom. Whatever the cause, she really lit into me yesterday.

I've tried calling her but her roommate keeps saying she's busy. I guess I won't be seeing her again.

* * *

January 19, 1989

Today when I got back after class all I wanted to do was zonk out for a while but when I opened the door my phone was ringing. I almost didn't pick it up but it turned out it was Jenny wanting to go grab a burger.

We went to this diner just off campus and stayed there for a while. I wasn't sure what to make of her suddenly calling me up like that but I didn't want to ask. Eventually she got around to the subject on her own anyway. She said she was sorry she stopped talking to me but she was really mad about what I said. It wasn't until she talked to her roommate about it that she realized she was being silly. Her roommate (I can't remember her name) also reminded her that I said I didn't mean what I said to Jason and told her to stop making such a fuss about it. Actually she worded it differently but I'm not too keen on that kind of language.

At least we've gotten things straightened out now. I hope.

* * *

February 3, 1989

Had a talk with Uncle Pete last weekend. He asked me how things turned out with Mei and I told him. He said he was sorry but he thought that might be the case. I told him it was alright. Then he asked me who I was going out with now, which kind of put me on the spot. I mean, I hang out with Jenny but we're not really 'going out' going out, right? We just do stuff together.

I told him I had a friend named Jenny but that was it. I guess it's never a good idea trying to keep things from a cop when they want to know about them. Before I knew it, he'd managed to get me to tell him everything I knew about her.

It was strange - by the time I got done talking, Uncle Pete had a strange look on his face. When I asked him what was wrong, he said Jenny's dad sounded like someone he used to know years ago. It's a small world after all... Hee hee.

* * *

March 18. 1989

Quarter finals are over and I've got a few days off. Me and a couple of other guys are going to head to Malibu. It's too cold to go in the water but we can still hang out on the beach. One of the guys' dads has a vacation house there. I guess it must be nice to have all that money.

* * *

April 11, 1989

Uncle Pete wants to talk to me but I told Mom I didn't want to see him. She says it'll make me feel better but she doesn't understand - no one does. I don't want to talk to anyone. Not even Jenny. I know she's called a couple of times but I told Mom to tell her I was asleep. I know she's not fooled by that - she's too smart - but it was the only thing I could think of at the time.

I just wish everyone would leave me alone. I don't want to talk to anyone.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N:** Thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing. I also extend warm thanks to the guest reviewers for adding their thoughts. I wish I could reply to you individually but alas, it is not to be.

As I've mentioned before, a _lot_ of research goes into one of these stories. I don't know whether to be pleased or disappointed that I've finally found something that can't be looked up on the Internet. Also, I just realized I've grossly deviated from the original oneshot in regards to what happened to Jim Reed Sr, but I think this version fits his character better.

My apologies if the end of the last chapter left everyone confused. It will become clearer from this point on. I'll be trying to update a little faster as I'm coming up on a lengthy period of time where I won't be able to post and I'd like to finish this before that happens. If anyone is reading the E! story on AO3, I'll try to complete that one as well. Thanks again everyone. :)

* * *

April 15, 1989

Jenny was here - I heard her talking to Mike in the living room. I have to give her credit for persistence, anyway. From what I could tell she was dropping off some books that she'd gotten from my teachers.

I have to admire her dedication. She must've gotten my class schedule from Trevor - my roommate - and then went around to all my professors to get my assignments. I appreciate it but I just don't want to have anything to do with school right now.

* * *

April 18, 1989

Mom offered to get me another appointment with Howard but I told her I didn't need one. Then she said if I was sure I was fine then I should go back to school. I wanted to yell at her but instead I came into my room and closed the door and locked it. I can't remember the last time I locked my bedroom door. I think she got the point.

* * *

April 22, 1989

Uncle Pete just left. He said he'll be back tomorrow. I'm tempted to pack all my stuff in the car and take off but there's really no point - he'll just put out an APB on the convertible and track me down.

* * *

April 23, 1989

I have a whole new respect for firemen.

* * *

April 28, 1989

It's a good thing there's no school tomorrow, because I have a feeling this is going to take a long time to relate.

First of all, I have to explain what happened.

So back on March 18th, I'd just finished the quarter finals and was off school until the following Wednesday - March 22nd. One of the guys I talk to from class (I don't know him really well) has a dad who's a high-powered defense lawyer and they have a vacation house in Malibu just off of Zuma Beach.

So Don - that's the guy's name - his roommate Glen and another guy I met on the cross-country running team named Aaron (he's on the team, I'm not. I met him while I was out for a run and we got talking) all invited me to go with them for this sort of vacation out in Malibu. I thought it a little strange that they asked me, considering I don't know any of them really well, but I felt like going and doing something and figured 'why not'?

Now Don and Glen are roommates - I said that already - and apparently they knew Aaron because the three of them share a couple of classes together. I know Don from my classes and, like I said before, I know Aaron, so when they were thinking of a fourth person to round out their trip, someone suggested me.

That takes care of why I was there in the first place.

So anyway... We went in Don's car because it's a convertible. I told them I had a convertible as well and it probably got better mileage but Don said his dad would have a fit if he found out there was an old Mustang parked at his beach house so we took Don's Mercedes instead.

Once we had our stuff packed it only took about 45 minutes to get to the beach house. The PCH was moving pretty good, which was unusual, and the only thing that took any time was getting out of LA itself.

We tossed our stuff in the house and changed our clothes and then all piled back in the car to head to the beach. It was pretty warm out but the water was still kind of cold so we just horsed around for a while playing Frisbee and doing stupid things like burying each other in the sand.

After a while we got hungry so we went to this little place like a cantina down the beach a ways. We got some hotdogs and drinks and stuff and then went to sit down at this little table to eat.

Well we weren't there for very long when Aaron spotted this girl at another table. I should mention Aaron's thing about girls: Aaron fancies himself some kind of stud and will hit on any girl within his line of vision. He never gets put off if they turn him down, either. If there's another girl around he'll just change targets but if not, he'll just keep flirting with them until he wears them down.

He doesn't date them, either. Aaron sleeps with every girl he goes out with - and then dumps them after. He's got quite the reputation. He's not the kind of person I would consider 'friend material' normally, just because he doesn't seem to have any morals.

* * *

April 29, 1989

Anyway... So as soon as Aaron locks eyes with this girl (she was sitting with a couple of other girls), he goes right over and sits down and introduces himself. I couldn't help but grin at his boldness - it's like it doesn't even occur to him that he might be intruding or anything.

The girl (I found out later her name was Amy) read Aaron's intentions right off, I guess, because he'd no sooner gotten his name out when she told him to take a hike. Of course we started laughing at that. Every so often Aaron's ego needs taken down a peg.

Aaron wasn't going to let that defeat him, though. He started acting wounded and flashed his puppy-dog eyes at the other girls, looking for sympathy.

One of the other girls got up and walked off, leaving Amy and another girl sitting with Aaron. I could tell Amy was actually amused by the way Aaron was showing off. The other girl looked a little uncomfortable but she didn't seem prepared to walk away like the third girl did and leave Amy alone.

After a little while I could see Aaron and Amy actually talking to each other, and then Aaron got up and came back to our table while the two girls left. Don asked Aaron if he struck out but Aaron said he'd arranged to meet her at a bonfire party later.

Don and Glen seemed a little put out by that. Then Aaron told him that Amy promised to bring her two friends with her to the party and he said he'd bring us along.

Well if you did the math on that one, you'll find that left one person out - me. I didn't really mind but Don decided that they'd have to work on getting me a date for the party. I listened to their ridiculous ideas for about five minutes before I told them I'd go stag. Glen started to protest but I reminded him we wouldn't be the only people at the party and there'd probably be more girls there.

We went back to the beach for a while and then when we got tired we headed to the house to grab showers and a nap - not necessarily in that order. The house had three bedrooms but one had a bunk bed in it so Glen and I took that one. Aaron insisted he have a room with a big bed in it (despite Don telling him he wasn't bringing any girls back there) and Don took the room his parents usually slept in, naturally. There were three bathrooms as well, so we wouldn't get in each other's way.

For me it felt like I'd just closed my eyes when Glen was shaking me awake, saying that it was time to get going. We got dressed and hopped in the car, heading for the beach again.

By the time we got there the sun was going down but there was still light enough for us to find the party Amy talked about. There was probably twenty or so people milling around drinking beers and they seemed pretty happy to meet us.

Around about eleven or so I was starting to feel pretty tired again. I didn't want to be a downer so I told Don I was going to head down the beach a bit and I'd be back later. I might've been taking a chance that they'd leave and forget me but the house wasn't really very far away so I wasn't really worried. I could walk if I had to. Plus the guys didn't seem like the type to drink and drive.

Anyway, I walked down the beach a ways - just until I could barely see the bonfire - and then sat down on the sand. I was glad I'd worn pants and not shorts because the wind was picking up and it was kind of chilly. I figured if I hung out there long enough, the beer buzz I had would wear off and I'd wake up a bit. I wasn't drunk but I could tell I'd been drinking, if that makes any sense.

I'd probably been down there for an hour or so when I heard the shouting. I'd been staring out at the surf, letting my mind wander, when I started to hear raised voices. I got up and looked back at the party and something was going on, so I headed back.

When I got there, there were a few more people than there'd been when I left - big jock types - and one of them was shoving Aaron around. From what I could gather amidst all the shouting and from one of the girls nearby that I questioned, the newcomers were from Pepperdine... and one of them was Amy's brother.

I didn't find out until later that Amy was only high school age and shouldn't have been there drinking. That wasn't our fault, of course, but what had set her brother off was that Aaron was doing his level best to get into Amy's sixteen-year-old pants.

Thinking back on it now, I remember feeling vaguely like I'd been caught in the middle of a riot. There was us from UCLA, plus a bunch of local kids, the Pepperdine kids, a few from Cal State and Amy's group all yelling and pushing and essentially turning what had been an okay party into a free-for-all. The worst, of course, was Amy's brother Bruce. He was madder than hell and more than a little drunk and he was going to beat the tar out of the guy trying to mess with his little sister.

I tried to stay out of it all but there was a lot of pushing and shoving going on so that wasn't always possible. At one point some guy grabbed me and hauled back as if to punch me but I just put my hands up to let him know I wasn't involved. He let me go and disappeared into the crowd.

I grabbed Glen and told him someone should call the cops before anyone got hurt but I don't think he heard me - at least, he didn't make any move to go for help. Then I saw Don and started to tell him the same thing but all he wanted to do was take off and leave Aaron to fend for himself. He said he didn't want his dad finding out he was mixed up in some fight. I'd think he wouldn't sweat it much, given that his dad was an attorney, but whatever.

Anyway, I told him to get Glen and go back to the car and I'd get Aaron and meet them there. He nodded and took off, presumably to find Glen, who'd taken off as soon as I let him go.

The next thing I did was probably pretty stupid. I went over to where Aaron and Bruce were having their shoving-slash-screaming match and tried to get them to listen to me. As I've said before, I'm a pretty big guy and most people tend to listen to me. Most sober people, that is.

I thought I was getting through to them but then Bruce suddenly took a swing at me. I ducked and he hit the guy behind me - luckily it wasn't Aaron. He's pretty amiable but he's tremendously vain about his looks and if Bruce had connected with his face he probably would've lost it.

The next thing I knew people were swinging punches at each other, the girls in the group were either screaming at their boyfriends or screaming in general. Most just took off but Bruce and his gang were out to get someone's hide - namely, Aaron's.

I was still stupidly putting myself between Aaron and Bruce, yelling at Aaron to leave while trying to get Bruce to calm down. I don't remember everything I said but I do remember telling him to take his sister and go home. I made a point of not using Amy's name, just saying 'your sister' because I figured if he found out I knew her name he'd think I'd been trying to sleep with her too.

At any rate, what I'd been yelling at Aaron must've finally sunk in because he took off. I stayed there with Bruce and his buddies, trying to both make him see reason and keep him from chasing after Aaron. That's where the _really_ stupid part comes in...


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: This one's relatively short but I promise the next ones are longer. Really.

* * *

April 30, 1989

One minute I was trying to talk to Bruce and the next thing I knew fireworks exploded in my head. When I came to, everyone was gone except me and Glen. That seemed kind of weird at first because I was sure he'd gone back to the car with Don. I had a splitting headache and I'm pretty sure my head was bleeding. There was a lump on the back of my head and when I went to touch it (big mistake), my hand came away wet and sticky.

I could hear sirens coming and I looked at Glen to tell him we should leave but he just lay there on his side. I thought maybe he'd been knocked out like me so I went to wake him up. His clothes were soaked and he was lying on his side, not moving.

My head was all messed up but I could tell something wasn't right. I rolled Glen over on his back and put my ear down to his mouth but I couldn't hear him breathing. Then I put my ear on his chest and didn't hear anything there, either.

Back when I started going to UCLA there was a bulletin on the board next to the dean's office advertising first aid and CPR classes after regular classes. I read it a couple of times before I actually signed up, thinking it was something my dad would've wanted me to do. Now I was glad that I did. Instead of panicking and taking off like I was sure everyone else did, I started doing what I'd learned to do in that course. I was still panicking but there was this little voice in the back of my brain - somewhere near the part that was still throbbing - saying "Clear the airway... tilt the head back... give two full breaths... check the pulse... start compressions..."

I found myself counting out loud "One and two and three and four and-" up to five, three times. Then I stopped, gave Glen another breath and started over. I don't know how long I did that for but by the time someone else came to help, I was going on autopilot.

The next thing I knew I was sitting in the back of a cop car wrapped in a blanket while some cop stood nearby. I had a cup of coffee in my hand but I didn't know where it came from. There was an ambulance a few yards away and I could see through the open back doors that a couple of paramedics were in there with someone on the stretcher. One of them climbed out, shut the doors and slapped his hand on the back twice. As the vehicle pulled away, he picked up a couple of what looked like tool boxes and headed in my direction.

The cop stopped him before he got to me and said something to him and he nodded. Then he knelt down next to me and asked me how I was feeling. I didn't know what to say so I just stared at him. Then the cop leaned down and put his hand on my shoulder and gave me a little shake. The paramedic told him to stop because I didn't look too good but the damage was done - I leaned over and threw up, almost hitting the cop's shoes. The cop said something about 'stupid drunk kids' but the paramedic said he didn't think so. Once my stomach calmed down, he asked me if I was hurt anywhere. I lifted my hand to touch the bump on my head but he stopped me and checked it himself. Then he said "Looks like he's been walloped back here, Ted. Probably got a concussion." Ted was the cop but at the time I couldn't figure that out.

I let whatever they were saying go around me for a while but when I heard the cop say "What's your home number, kid? We have to call your parents" I came to pretty quick. The last thing I wanted was some cop calling my mom at whatever hour in the morning this was. She'd have a heart attack.

I asked him if he could call my godfather instead of my mom and he looked at me for a minute and then nodded his head. When I said "Captain Malloy of the LAPD," I thought his eyebrows were going to disappear right up under his hat. He told me he'd give Uncle Pete a call and have him meet us at the hospital. At that, I looked at the paramedic, who smiled and said "Your ride is here" and nodded back over his shoulder. There was another ambulance sitting where the first one was - I didn't even see it pull up.

It took some doing but I finally got on my feet and made my way over to the back of the vehicle. That was as far as I got, though. I remember hearing the paramedic say "Whoops!" and then everything went black. The next thing I knew, I was lying on the stretcher with the paramedic leaning over me. He asked me how I was feeling and I said "Like someone hit me on the back of the head" and he laughed. I asked him for some Tylenol or something but he said I couldn't have anything until a doctor checked me out. Then I asked him if they could turn the siren off - I had a whopping headache. He nodded and called up to the person driving and the next thing I knew the piercing sound of the siren was gone. It was such a relief that I closed my eyes but the paramedic wouldn't let me keep them closed.

Things are kind of sketchy about that ride but I remember panicking a little bit that it was taking so long and I asked him where we were going. I didn't know a lot about Malibu but I did know it didn't have an actual hospital, per se. He told me we were on the way to UCLA Medical in Santa Monica and that Uncle Pete (only he called him 'your godfather') would meet us there. I asked him then if Glen was taken there too but he got busy doing something and never answered me.

I was so tired... All I wanted to do was sleep but the paramedic - I found out later his name was Sam - kept telling me I had to stay awake until I got checked out. At one point I was actually wishing I'd get whacked on the head again just so I could get some undisturbed rest. It was only the memory of how scary that felt that kept me from banging my head on the stretcher railing.

A long while later I could feel the ambulance slow down so I thought we must be almost at the hospital. We'd been making the occasional turn for the last ten minutes or so, so I knew we were in Santa Monica. When the ambulance stopped and started to back up I figured we'd arrived at UCLA Medical. Next thing I knew the doors were opened from the outside and the stretcher started moving. There was a bunch of people around me in white coats and those funny uniforms people that work at hospitals wear, but the one face that stood out was Uncle Pete. As soon as I saw him I felt like I was going to cry. Honestly, you'd think I was nine instead of nineteen.

They put me in a room with a big light and a bunch of stainless steel cabinets, lifting me off the stretcher and onto the bed there so fast I barely had time to register the fact that my stomach didn't like it. I heard Sam saying a bunch of stuff to one of the guys in a lab coat but I didn't understand any of it. Then he came up beside me and told me to relax - that I was in good hands - and he left. The guy in the coat started asking me a bunch of questions then, like 'what day is it' and 'who's the president' and stuff (I don't normally pay attention to that kind of thing but the election was only a few months back) and then he asked me what happened.

I didn't want to go into everything so I just said "Someone clocked me." He didn't seem to understand what I meant and I didn't feel like saying it again so I closed my eyes. That caused a bunch of panic because they thought I was trying to go to sleep or something. I finally opened my eyes again but I started to get mad. I've been told since that it was because I'd been hit in the head but at the time I was getting frustrated, going from numb to crying to angry - it's exhausting, to say the least, and I was already _really_ tired.

Uncle Pete must've been in the room too, although I couldn't see him, because suddenly I heard him say "Someone hit him in the head." I figured the doctor (if that's what he was) hadn't listened to a word Sam said because he'd already told them that.

Then the doctor turned around and said that Uncle Pete had to leave. I got really mad then. There was no way I was going to stick around if he had to go. I started to get up and a nurse pushed me back down and then it was on. I thought they were supposed to have a nice attitude in hospitals but she just gave me a shove without even saying anything.

At the end of it all, Uncle Pete got to stay and I didn't have to wear restraints as long as I didn't try to deck anyone else. The nurse that pushed me disappeared, though, and another one came to take her place. The verdict was a mild concussion and extreme fatigue and they wanted me to stay overnight for observation. I started to freak out a bit at that but Uncle Pete was on their side. I could've refused and signed myself out AMA but he promised it was just for overnight - and he wouldn't tell my mom.

I knew I'd have to tell her eventually but I wanted to do it in person so she could see I was alright. I said I'd stay and Uncle Pete said he'd be back for me in the morning, and did I want him to go to the dorm and get some clothes.

That brought me up short. All my stuff was still at the beach house - presumably with Don and Aaron. I didn't know what had happened to them after the fight broke out and I really wanted to know. I also wanted to know what became of Glen.

The next part's harder. I'm going to take a break here and finish it later.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N:** This epic is almost done, as far as the writing goes. Once again if anyone has any suggestions I'd love to hear them. I still have time for revamping this before posting.

Thanks again for all the reviews. It makes my day to get those emails.

* * *

May 5, 1989

Best not put it off for too long or I won't finish it. I know from experience that I should get it all down before it eats away at me.

Okay, well... I told Uncle Pete that my stuff was at the beach house. I didn't want to get into too much detail with all those other people standing around and I think he understood because he said to wait until they put me in a room before I said anything else.

The doctor said they'd be moving me in a few minutes but that he wanted to talk to Uncle Pete so they went out into the hallway while the nurse (a different one) busied herself checking my IV and fussing with my blanket. They'd taken my clothes away and put me in one of those hospital gowns, so I was kind of glad she brought the blanket. My feet were getting cold and it was kind of drafty, if you get my meaning. A couple of minutes later the door opened again and a guy came in pushing a bed like the one I was on. I thought I'd have to move over but the nurse unlocked the wheels on my bed and pushed me to one side while the guy put the new bed where mine had been. Then he grabbed _my_ bed and proceeded to wheel me out into the hallway.

I saw Uncle Pete out there with the doctor and the cop, Ted. He said he'd be up in a minute and then we were gone. We got into an elevator, rode it for a while and then went down another long hallway before turning into a room with a bed.

The guy pushed me right up next to it, locked the wheels and told me to 'scoot over'. Once I was on the new bed a nurse came in and hung up my IV bag and then helped me get under the covers. She was really nice, asking me if I wanted a drink of water or more pillows or anything. Honestly, all I wanted to do was sleep but I didn't want to miss Uncle Pete when he came up. I told her I was good but she kept hovering around, straightening things and checking things. I remember thinking she couldn't be a lot older than me, and therefore not old enough to be a full-fledged nurse, and I was proven right. A minute or so later another older nurse came in and double-checked everything she'd done, calling her 'Miss Stanley' and she called the older nurse 'Ma'am'. I guess she was an intern or something.

They both left then, with 'Ma'am' saying she'd send 'Miss Stanley' in later with some medication for me. I was beginning to worry about being able to talk to Uncle Pete because I was getting so sleepy but after a little while the door opened again and he came in - followed by Ted the Cop.

Uncle Pete said Ted needed to get my statement about what happened at the party. I didn't really want to talk to him because he'd accused me of being drunk, to which Uncle Pete raised his eyebrows at Ted. I'm pretty sure he's been practicing that expression on recruits because Ted blushed and started apologizing right away, stating that they'd had proof there was drinking at the party and given the way I was acting when he pulled up... Uncle Pete just turned his back on him.

Then he (Uncle Pete) sat on the edge of my bed, picked up my hand and held it and told me to tell him everything I could remember and Ted could write down what he needed. I watched Ted take out a notebook and pen and then I turned all my attention on Uncle Pete.

I told him about our mini-holiday from school and about the four of us going to Don's dad's beach house - Uncle Pete interrupted me to ask for everyone's full name, I guess for Ted's benefit - and how Aaron had hit on Amy at the cantina and Amy inviting us all to the bonfire party. I skipped over the stuff we did in between and told about the party itself with Uncle Pete cutting in every so often to ask stuff like 'how many people were there, roughly' and 'do you remember who brought the booze'. I didn't know who brought the liquor but I told him there were about twenty people at maximum - at least until Bruce and his buddies showed up.

I could tell he was a little disappointed that I didn't have more information about the time that I'd wandered off by myself. I expected him to say something about me drinking at the party but thankfully didn't go into it beyond asking me questions to determine that it wasn't us that brought the beer. Drinking under 21 in California is illegal unless you're with family - or at church. I figured he'd give me a lecture on it later.

Anyway, I told him everything I could remember about what happened after I went back to the party right up until I got whacked in the head. I started to tell him about coming around later but somehow the words got stuck and wouldn't come out. Uncle Pete squeezed my hand and told me to take my time, something I think Ted didn't like because he made a noise kind of like a snort. Uncle Pete didn't even look at him. I guess almost thirty years on the police force has its privileges.

When I figured I could talk without choking up, I started telling Uncle Pete about waking up on the beach and how everyone was gone except me and Glen. I told him I didn't know why he was there because he should've left with Don and Aaron. I also said I didn't know what happened to _them_, either - whether they went back to the house or what. He said not to worry about it and that he'd find out.

I didn't say anything else for a few minutes. Ted started getting impatient, shuffling his feet around and stuff. I swear the guy had no idea how hard it was for me to continue. Finally Uncle Pete turned to him and said "If you have to go, I can fill you in later." I guess he didn't want to leave because he got quiet after that.

Eventually I told Uncle Pete about seeing Glen and checking him out. I told him he was soaked to the skin and not breathing and didn't have a pulse. He asked me what happened next but all I said was "I tried to help him." Ted spoke up then, telling Uncle Pete that when he got on scene I was doing CPR on Glen. I didn't remember him showing up and told him so.

Uncle Pete said that was enough for now and told me to get some sleep. He said he'd check on Don and Aaron and pick up my stuff, and he'd see me in the morning. I asked him if he'd find out about Glen and he nodded, then he and Ted left.

I don't remember falling asleep but I do remember the interruptions all night long. They're called 'neuro checks' and man are they annoying. I'd just get to sleep and someone would come in and wake me up again, asking questions like 'what's your name' and 'do you know where you are' and stuff like that. I was just about ready to throw something at the next person who came in and woke me up but it turned out the next person was Uncle Pete.

* * *

May 6, 1989

If they keep you in a hospital to recuperate, and you need sleep in order to heal, why don't they let you sleep while you're in the hospital?

Every hour or so, someone would come into my room, wake me up, ask me questions and then tell me to go back to sleep. At first I would but... Have you ever tried to sleep when you knew you didn't have much time to do it in? It doesn't work. By the time Uncle Pete came in, I'd probably had two hours in total.

Adding insult to injury (no pun intended) was the knowledge that he didn't show up until almost lunchtime.

I don't know what time I got to the hospital but I'm pretty sure it was going on about two or three o'clock in the morning. Roughly an hour or so for the exam and x-rays and taking me upstairs, then add on at least another hour while I was talking to Uncle Pete... it had to have been five-thirty or so before I finally got the chance to sleep - and that didn't last.

Needless to say, by the time I saw him come through the door I was a wreck. All I wanted to do was lie down somewhere quiet and sleep for a week. Uncle Pete took one look at me and said "I remember that feeling." I didn't even have to say anything.

He handed me a bag, said "Get dressed" and walked out again. Thankfully the clothes he brought me weren't too embarrassing. The last time I asked my mom to grab some clothes for me (I forgot to take a change of clothes to a track meet), I wound up looking like a total dork. Uncle Pete's got better fashion sense, though. Either that, or he picked up the bag I'd left at Don's and grabbed whatever was on top.

I'd just finished changing and was coming out of the bathroom when he came back in waving a piece of paper. He said "Let's blow this popsicle joint" and I had to fight to keep from rolling my eyes. His fashion sense may be alright but his use of current phrases needs an update.

Once we got out to the car, he handed me a bottle of Pepsi and a small paper bag. Inside was a prescription for heavy-duty Tylenol. He told me to take one but when I asked him if it would knock me out and he said "Probably", I decided not to just yet. I had a few questions I wanted answered first.

We'd been driving for about ten minutes when I asked him if he went back to Don's house. He said he did and got my stuff and talked to Don and Aaron about last night. When I opened my mouth to ask what they said, he told me to wait and we'd talk later.

He took me to a restaurant just off the PCH and we had lunch. I didn't feel like eating when we went in but Uncle Pete told me to order something anyway and by the time it arrived I was starving. Uncle Pete watched me wolf down my food with a smile on his face. I half-expected him to tell me to slow down like my mom always does but he didn't.

After lunch we got back on the highway and headed for home. I closed my eyes and just enjoyed the ocean air and the wind on my face. I knew he wasn't going to tell me anything yet so I didn't bother asking.

I must've fallen asleep because the next thing I knew Uncle Pete was shaking my shoulder. When I opened my eyes and looked around, I didn't recognize anything. Uncle Pete explained that after the divorce he moved to an apartment.

His place is actually really nice. He told me it was called an 'adult complex' and I made a smart remark about that being the first step to a retirement home. He made like he was going to slap the back of my head but at the last minute he pulled back. I guess he forgot about the bump on my head.

Anyway... We went in, got ourselves settled and then I started asking Uncle Pete questions. Like 'what happened to Don and Aaron' and 'did they see what happened to Glen' and 'where is Glen'. I guess I must've rattled them off pretty quickly because he held up his hands and told me to wait.


	27. Chapter 27

May 7, 1989

So this is the timeline of events as I understand it:

1\. Don found Glen and the two of them went back to the car. Don wanted to take off right away but Glen talked him into waiting for me and Aaron.

2\. Aaron came running up and told them there was a fight going on between Amy's brother and me, and he wanted to leave too.

3\. Glen told Don and Aaron they could leave if they wanted to but he was going to go back and see if he could help. He told them to stop at a pay phone and call the cops before they took off. Don didn't want to but Aaron said he'd do it. I guess he did because Ted said they got an anonymous tip.

4\. Ted interviewed a couple of kids at the party who said Glen showed up just as I got knocked out and he went kind of wild. He leaped on the back of the kid that hit me and started whaling on him. The kid was pretty drunk and he lost his balance and fell into the water. Glen must've hit his head on something and got knocked out too because by the time the other kid got up, he wasn't moving.

5\. Bruce and the drunk kid pulled Glen out of the water and up onto shore. When the rest of the kids saw Glen wasn't moving, they all took off. At the time Uncle Pete was talking to Ted at the hospital he hadn't talked to Bruce or the other kid but he found out later neither one of them knew what to do to help Glen other than laying him on his side. They panicked and took off.

6\. I came to and started helping Glen. A few minutes later (I swear it felt like hours) Ted showed up with the paramedics and they took over.

7\. Glen didn't die that night but he did a few days later when his parents took him off life support.

Of course I didn't know all this when I was at Uncle Pete's. Like I said, Ted didn't have any information when Uncle Pete talked to him at the hospital. He phoned later with an update - said he was 'doing it out of professional courtesy'. I think he just didn't want to be on Uncle Pete's bad side.

Also on that day Glen was still alive and in the hospital - something Uncle Pete knew when he came to pick me up but waited to tell me - but he was hooked up to machines and no one knew how that was going to turn out. His folks came up from Santa Barbara to stay with him and when the doctors said he had no brain activity they decided to turn off the machines.

I went to see him once - I took the car and didn't tell anyone where I was going. I talked to him for a little while and then his parents came in so I got up to leave but they asked me to stay. I really wish I hadn't, now. They started out kind of nice but while they were talking about Glen they began to get really upset about what happened and take it out on me - I guess because I was handy. I was trying my hardest to be polite and get the hell out of that room but they were between me and the door.

Thankfully the doctor came in then and told them I was the one who tried to help Glen. He also said that I couldn't have prevented what happened because I'd been attacked too and was unconscious. They looked really shocked and started to apologize but I'd had enough. I left and didn't go back - not even when they invited me to his funeral. If I wasn't prepared to go back to Santa Monica, I sure as heck wouldn't drive to Santa Barbara.

* * *

May 27, 1989

So about my comment on April 23rd about having a new respect for firemen...

As I said, Uncle Pete left the night before saying that he'd be back the next day. At the time I didn't care - I was pretty numb at that point - but when he did show up, I got real interested, real fast.

He didn't come by himself like I thought he would. I was in my room, reading a book, when I heard the doorbell ring and then people talking in the living room. I recognized my mom's voice and Uncle Pete's and Mike's (he's always gotta come look when someone shows up) but there was another voice I didn't know. Whoever the guy was, he was laughing at Uncle Pete and talking really politely to my mom and Mike.

I was curious but not enough to come look - that is, until Mom came and told me to go out to the living room because I had company. I didn't put up a lot of protest - something that must've surprised my mom, given how secluded I'd been. Like I said, I was curious.

Anyway, when I got out there I saw Uncle Pete sitting on the sofa with another man I wasn't familiar with. He had white hair like Uncle Pete but he wore glasses and this really ugly Hawaiian shirt. I stopped in the doorway for a second but Mom pushed me in the back so I kept going.

When I got to the sofa both Uncle Pete and the guy stood up. Uncle Pete introduced us and Roy - that was his name - held out his hand for me to shake. I did, and when he let go he turned to Uncle Pete and said "You were right - he _does_ look like him."

I didn't blush that time. I was still trying to figure out who the guy was, how he knew my dad and why Uncle Pete brought him here. I guess my confusion must've been obvious because Uncle Pete told me to head out on the deck and him and Mom would see about supper.

Living in California means that you have nice weather earlier in the year than other places, so when we went outside it was pretty warm. It didn't take long before I was envying Roy his Hawaiian shirt - ugly or not. I was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans at the time.

So once we got settled I cut to the chase and asked Roy how he knew my dad and Uncle Pete. He said they'd worked together a few times and kept in touch. I asked him if he was a cop and he said no, he was a fireman.

At that point I was ready to write the guy off, pretty much. I figured, though, that if my dad were here he'd want me to at least listen to what he had to say, so I asked him why he came.

He said Uncle Pete had told him what happened back in March and that I was taking it pretty hard. I didn't understand why Uncle Pete went to him about it but I soon found out.

Roy started talking to me about way back when he first joined the fire department and how no matter how fast they responded or how hard they worked to save people, sometimes they just didn't live through it. He said there were times when they'd get people out of their car wrecks or burning houses or whatever and put them in the ambulance alive only to have them die on the way to the hospital - or even _at_ the hospital.

Then he told me about when they started up the paramedic program and how tough it was on them at first, being trained to help but not being allowed to. Having to go to the hospital to get a nurse before they could respond to any calls because they couldn't render medical aid by themselves.

By then I was thoroughly into what Roy was saying. I couldn't remember a time when there weren't paramedics so I was fascinated with his story - not to mention he's got this kind of teacher quality to his voice, quiet but strong, that just makes you _want_ to listen.

Then he told me about how excited they were once they were approved to work - how he and his partner performed many firsts in the field. They worked hard and saved a lot of people's lives. People who wouldn't have made it to the hospital if they hadn't been there.

He then went on to say that despite all their training and expertise, there were still times when nothing they did changed the outcome. That they could be in the middle of any number of things and yet when they were called, they dropped everything and raced to help, getting there within minutes, rescuing people as fast as they could and giving them medical aid on scene - only to have them die anyway.

I said it must've been hard and he kind of laughed but not like he thought I was making a joke. He said every time it happened his heart broke a little bit. He said they'd take courses all the time to keep up with the latest procedures, train harder so they could work faster... and in the end, it didn't matter.

I thought of what Uncle Pete told me about trying to help Dad on the night he died. No matter what he did or how hard he tried, Dad still died. I then thought about Glen and how hard I'd worked to try and get him back. By the time he got to the hospital he was alive but he died anyway. Even with the paramedics and nurses and doctors working on him, he still couldn't be saved.

I asked Roy then how he kept going. He told me that he had to do it. I was prepared for him to tell me next the same thing Uncle Pete did about feeling a need to do what he did, but instead Roy said that he had to think to himself that given the situation, and with everything he was capable of doing, he couldn't walk away from it. Because there were still people out there that needed him - that could be saved if he _were_ there to help. He couldn't just turn his back on them.

I was still feeling mixed up over what happened with Glen. On the one hand I knew I'd done everything I could to help him, but on the other I couldn't help feeling that if I hadn't stepped into the argument between Bruce and Aaron, Glen might still be alive. Somehow I had a feeling that Roy might understand what I was going through, so I pushed away my misgivings about talking to someone I barely knew - and a fireman, no less - and told him what happened.

* * *

May 28, 1989

Man, that was a long one! Moving on...

The entire time I talked Roy didn't say a word. He just sat and listened while I went on and on, nodding every once in a while, until I was finished. At the end he said he knew exactly how I felt. Sometimes, he said, they'd go on a rescue where there were multiple people needing help but there was just him and his partner. He said they'd have to decide on the spot who needed their help most and tend to those people first.

Sometimes, despite their best efforts, they'd still lose someone and then they'd start asking themselves if they'd made the right decision. He said what it really boiled down to wasn't 'did they make the _right_ decision' but 'did they make the _best_ decision, given the circumstances'.

He then asked me if I thought I'd done that - made the best decision I could in that situation. I had to think about it for a while. Looking back, there's things I would've done differently but when I put myself back there, at that time, I couldn't say where I went wrong.

Sure, I could've left right after Aaron did but I don't know if Bruce and his friends would've let me - and if they followed me to the car, then what? They really wanted a piece of Aaron and that's where he was.

I also couldn't have foreseen Glen coming back to the beach. The last I knew, Don was going to find him, head to the car and wait for me and Aaron. If I didn't know Don and Aaron _would_ take off, how was I supposed to know Glen _wouldn't_?

Up until the moment Bruce took a swing at me, I didn't think that the situation was that bad. I mean, he was mad and all but he _seemed_ to be listening to me. And I suppose I could've stood there and taken the punch - but would that have prevented the fight afterward? Probably not.

And the whole thing started with Aaron going after Amy. I could've stepped in back at the cantina but that wouldn't have stopped him from hitting on someone else's little sister - and Amy didn't seem to dislike the attention. Regardless of the grief she gave him at first, she _did_ invite him to the party after.

So did I do anything _wrong_? Not that I could think of. Did I do anything _right_? Maybe. But did I do the _best I could_?

Yes.


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N:** You'll all be happy to know (or maybe not) that this is finally a completed work. Let me know if you think I should keep pacing them out or put them all up at once. Also I've been told that my writing fizzles out as I get near the end of a story. I worked really hard to ensure that isn't the case here but if they do - my deepest apologies.

* * *

May 29, 1989

I'm glad I got all that out yesterday, because today was overwhelming all on its own.

I don't know why - nothing disastrous happened - but right now I feel like a bundle of nerves. I don't mean the kind of nervous energy where you just have to do something - anything - to get rid of it. I mean the kind where if someone dropped a spoon or tapped you on the shoulder, you'd probably pitch a fit. That kind of nerves.

And I can't explain why. There's just so much going on in my head, what with rehashing everything yesterday and then today... It's like my brain is at maximum capacity.

I'm going to write it all down, but first I need to get some sleep - if my brain will shut up.

* * *

June 18, 1989

I meant to get back to this, but what with having to make up almost a month of schoolwork and doing finals and all, I just didn't have time. I'm done all that now, though, so I can get on with it.

May 29th was Memorial Day and for the first time in a long time, I went to the service with Uncle Pete. For the first time ever, Mom and Mike came with us. What made it triply (is that a word?) special was that Uncle Pete brought his friend Roy, and Roy brought his old partner. We made quite a group.

I won't go into the details of the ceremony because the most important part for me came after it was over. Uncle Pete went off to one side to talk to Roy and his friend while me, Mom and Mike stood around waiting. A few women came up and started talking to Mom - telling her it was good to see her and asking how she was doing and stuff. Mom was really polite and everything but she looked uncomfortable. After a minute or so Uncle Pete came up and told the other women that he needed to talk to Mom and dragged her off. I could tell she was relieved - at first. Whatever Uncle Pete was saying to her started making her angry. I didn't know then what they were talking about but I could tell it had something to do with me or Mike because they both kept looking in our direction.

Eventually Mom turned away from Uncle Pete and walked back to us. He just stood there watching. Mom said we were going home and Uncle Pete shook his head. I wanted to know what they were talking about but I didn't want to start an argument so I didn't say anything. Did I mention Mike's lack of diplomacy? The kid is totally tactless and has no problems stirring up trouble, let me tell you.

Mom said it was time to go and Mike came out and said "What did Uncle Pete say?" I elbowed him to try to get him to shut up but he didn't get the hint. He followed up that question with "You both were staring at Jay, what's going on?"

I forgot to mention: Mike's got his own vocabulary thing going on. Whereas I call Mom 'Mom', he calls her 'Ma'. He calls our grandparents 'G-Ma' and 'G-Pa' and he calls me 'Jay'. I suppose in his own little world it's actually 'J' but whatever.

Anyway... Mom didn't want to answer at first but then she heaved this big sigh and said Uncle Pete wanted to take us to the Police Memorial at Parker Center. Mike immediately said "Far out!" (his favorite phrase these days) but I didn't say anything. I kind of wanted to go but at the same time I didn't. Not just because Mom obviously didn't want to go but... I can't explain it. It was like I was afraid to see it.

I've heard about it, of course. It's a big black marble fountain at Parker Center and it's got the names of all the LAPD officers killed in the line of duty on it. I knew Dad's name would be on it... and I didn't want to see it.

The whole time Mike was trying to talk Mom into letting us go, she was looking at me. I just stared back at her and didn't say anything. Not that I had to - Mike can be really annoying for a 13-year-old. Well, at the time he was twelve but he hasn't changed much in the last month. At any rate, he kept going on and on about how he wanted to go see it and please wouldn't she take us and the whole time she stared at me. Finally she nodded and Mike let out a whoop.

Uncle Pete drove us there, of course, since we all came in his car. When we got to Parker Center he parked in the side lot and we all got out and started walking. I was doing fine until we got to where I could just see the top of the fountain - it's pretty tall - and then I started dragging my feet. I don't know why but I just couldn't go any faster. It was like someone had tied a lead weight to my legs and the closer we got, the slower I got until I was lagging way behind everyone. I didn't think anyone would notice but Mom glanced over her shoulder and saw me.

I looked away from her then and kept my eyes on the ground. It helped me speed up a bit but I was still behind everyone - until Uncle Pete slowed down to walk beside me. He asked me if I was alright and I didn't know how to explain the way I was feeling so I just nodded. We kept going up and around this kind of wall and then it was right there in front of us.

As soon as I heard the water running I looked up. The thing was huge. Big, black pillars made of marble standing in a ring of black marble. The only word that came to mind was 'ominous'. We kind of made a half-circle around it and just stared. Even Mike was quiet for once.

* * *

June 19, 1989

I tried to think of what else to say after all that and came up blank, so I left it there. Just before I fell asleep last night I decided to write it down as though I was watching everything.

Mom was standing to the far left of me with Mike on her right side. I was to the right of Mike and Uncle Pete was to the right of me. Even though there were four of us, we didn't completely circle the fountain. Mike was staring up at the pillars with his mouth hanging open, Mom was looking straight ahead but it was like she wasn't really seeing anything, Uncle Pete was watching me and I was just... frozen.

Somehow, whether by accident or design, I wound up right in front of the part of the base with Dad's name on it. It was right in front of my eyes as though someone deliberately put it in my line of view: 'Det. J. A. Reed'. After my first sight of the monument I'd ducked my head again but there it was. I don't know whether I was supposed to be the one in front of it or not.

At first, like I said, I just stood there frozen. After all that time, it was kind of surreal to actually see it. Then my vision just kind of narrowed down to that point, like I couldn't see anything else, and I noticed how the water splashing down the fountain kind of sprayed a little onto the names. Not much, but after a while the moisture would gather and trickle down and it looked like tears.

I leaned down and wiped away the water but I guess it was sitting in the grooves in the letters because it wasn't long before they were weeping again. I wonder if the person who designed it knew that would happen?

Anyway, after I did that Mike came over to see what I was doing and said "Look! There's Dad's name! Cool!" Absolutely no tact. I took a half-step back so he could see and felt Uncle Pete at my shoulder. Mom finally came over and looked, too, but she didn't say anything. Then Mike said "Are all of these people cops that died, Uncle Pete?" and he said yes.

That kind of broke me out of my reverie. I looked at Mom but she just stared down at Dad's name. Then I moved past Uncle Pete and started reading the other names. He followed behind me until I came back around to where Mom was standing.

Mike then asked "How many are there?" Uncle Pete said almost two hundred and Mike kind of whistled. It was kind of awe-inspiring - and very sad. When compared to the three-and-a-half million people in Los Angeles that doesn't seem like a lot. If you think about the families and friends and co-workers that are affected by each one, though... It adds up to a lot of broken hearts.

I felt Uncle Pete's hand on my shoulder. I knew it was time to go and I should've wanted to, given how I felt when we were coming here, but now I didn't really want to. I just nodded, though, because I knew Mom was uncomfortable. Mike wouldn't really care. He'd want to go do something else now.

We left and headed home. Uncle Pete offered to stop for ice cream but he didn't seem really surprised when Mom said she just wanted to go home. Mike put up a bit of protest but even his heart wasn't really in it. I just wanted some time to think.

* * *

August 14, 1989

It's just about the beginning of another school year. By the end of this one I'll have my undergraduate degree and then it's three years for my graduate degree. Yay.

I haven't told anyone but I've been back to see the memorial a few times. Sometimes I stand right up to it and watch the water trickle out of the letters and sometimes I sit on one of the benches they have nearby. Either way, I spend a lot of time thinking.

Uncle Pete came over for the barbecue in June. He and Mom spent a lot of time talking. At one point he asked me if I'd take Mike somewhere for a while so we went to see a movie. He wanted to see _Ghostbusters 2_ but I knew Mom wouldn't like it so we saw _Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade_ instead. It was pretty good, actually. Even Mike liked it.

By the time we got home Uncle Pete was gone and Mom was in bed. When I looked in she was reading a book. She asked how the movie was and I asked her if she was alright. Both of us answered 'fine'. I was telling the truth but I don't know if she was.

* * *

September 23, 1989

So far this year has been going pretty easy. Either I've gotten used to how things go in college or we're in for a helluva surprise.

Jenny and I went on an actual date last night. Dinner, movie - the works. We've decided that we're just really good friends and would rather keep it that way. At first it was really awkward but we talked about it and we both figure there's no romantic feelings between the two of us.

I managed to make her laugh by asking if that meant I had to call her 'Jennifer' now. She tells almost everyone to call her that but for some reason she doesn't mind if I don't. I said if it would make her feel better she can call me 'Jimmy'.

She also surprised me by telling me the guy Uncle Pete brought by the house was her dad. I didn't even put the two together but it makes perfect sense now. I told her he was probably the coolest person I'd ever met - except for the Hawaiian shirt. She laughed really hard at that.

* * *

October 9, 1989

I told Jenny about going to the memorial. To the best of my recollection I've been there over twenty times. She asked me why I keep going back but I didn't have an answer. Then she asked me what I think about while I'm there - I didn't know that, either. Memories, mostly. Not just of Dad but of conversations with Uncle Pete and stuff. It's funny, in a way. I spend a lot of time thinking when I go there but when I leave, it's like my mind is a total blank.

Then she asked me something strange. She said "Do you ever see your name up there?" I was about to say 'no' but really, I do. Not just because my name is the same as my dad's or because I have a death wish or anything, but because those people died doing something they loved to do - something with purpose - and I want to be that dedicated to what I do.

Problem is, I don't _know_ what I want to do.

I know it sounds ridiculous, given that I'm starting my fourth year of law school, but it's true. The longer I spend here, the less certain I am about being a lawyer. I try to picture myself up in front of a courtroom trying a witness or a suspect and I just can't see it. Or, rather, I can see it and the image makes me feel sick - and a little claustrophobic.

I'm all mixed up.


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N:** Daily updates aren't going to be the new thing - I still plan on spacing this out. However, I'm used to being able to respond directly to reviewers so when I get an anonymous review, this is my only vehicle for response.

**To Guest reviewer StargazerJ (cool name, btw):** Don't write me off as a lost cause yet! I've done my utmost best to ensure all loose ends are tied up and I think you'll find the points you raised addressed in future chapters. We still have a ways to go. Thanks for leaving me your thoughts on this.

**A/N 2:** I just realized something that may need a bit of clarification - in the last chapter there's a part that mentions 'three-and-a-half million people in Los Angeles'. For those fans of _Emergency!_ that may seem inaccurate but it's true. One has to consider that although Roy DeSoto stated in 'The Wedsworth-Townsend Act' that there were six-and-a-half million people they needed to care for, he was likely referring to the population of LA County. Since the LAPD works in a much smaller jurisdiction, I've used the population of Los Angeles itself according to a 1989 census (did I mention I did a lot of research for this? Cuz I did).

* * *

November 23, 1989

It's Thanksgiving and Uncle Pete came over for supper. After we ate, he told us he had a special announcement to make: he's been promoted to Commander in charge of the training academy. I looked at Mom to see what her reaction was and, surprisingly, she looked relieved. I would've thought she'd be all testy like she usually is when Uncle Pete brings up his job but she wasn't.

I swear I'm never going to understand that woman.

* * *

December 19, 1989

If I still believed in Santa Claus I'd go to the mall, sit on his knee and ask him to bring me wisdom for Christmas.

To be completely honest - because I can, here - this thing about being a lawyer is really taking its toll on me. My marks slipped a bit from last year even though this year is easier, so far. I know I've lost weight and I'm having a hard time sleeping.

I tried talking to Jenny about it but all she says is "Don't do it, then." She doesn't seem to realize what's at stake here. Not only would I be letting my mom down but I'd also have wasted all that money she, Uncle Pete and Dad put away for my education.

I know that next semester we're going to be doing mock trials and clinics and stuff. Maybe that will help me decide what to do. Something's gotta give.

* * *

January 20, 1990

Well, we've just gone through the first week of classes and I have to say:

Now I _know_ I don't want to be a lawyer.

We haven't even really started working on the trials and clinics and yet I can tell already that I'm not going to be able to do this for a living.

I'll have to figure out what else I'm going to do, but for now I'm going to stick with it. I know my dad wouldn't want me to quit when I'm so close to getting my undergrad.

I'll find some part that appeals to me and tough it out.

* * *

February 19. 1990

President's Day. I wonder if they ever had a problem figuring out if they were going to be President or if it came naturally to them. Did Reagan ever think "Nah, I'll stick with cowboys" when someone suggested he run for election? What made Bush go into politics?

* * *

March 14, 1990

Well, the mock trial has been started. Apparently we're doing the trials of Larry and George Stiner. Those were two of the guys charged with the murder of Bunchy Carter and John Huggins from the Black Panther group at Campbell Hall. I would've thought the subject matter a little too controversial for college but I guess the professor picked it because it's old, old news and it happened on this campus.

I told my professor I didn't really want to participate as legal counsel. I was kind of hoping I could play one of the jurors but he said I could play the part of one of the prosecution's witnesses. I have no idea what witness that would be. I guess I'd better go to the library and see what I can find out.

* * *

April 10, 1990

Sometimes I'm just too thorough for my own good.

As I said I would, I went to the library and found out everything I could about the shooting at Campbell Hall. It wasn't easy since this whole thing happened the year I was born. When I had about as much information as I could find, I then went to the City library and looked up the newspaper archives.

I really hate whoever invented microfiche...

Anyway, once that was done, I was fishing around (fiche-ing around?) and decided I had one more resource to explore for more information - so I called Uncle Pete.

Turns out he remembers the incident from what was going around the station at that time. He didn't actually have anything to do with the case, as it was out of his jurisdiction, but he remembers all the talk and the worry about what that incident would escalate into.

I asked him if there was any information he could get for me about the case and he said 'not really'. He said if there were any publicly available information, I'd probably already seen it. So that's that.

* * *

April 13, 1990

The mock trial starts on Monday. As part of my grade (since I'm not playing one of the lawyers), I rewrote all the information I got from my research into an essay and submitted that to my professor. Now all I have to do is go through the trial itself.

I think my professor's nuts. He still won't tell me what I'm supposed to be for the trial but I'm supposed to wear a suit on Monday regardless. I'll just bet he's planning on making me play the part of a lawyer anyway.

* * *

April 16, 1990

I was right. Apparently we're all supposed to be taking turns at being the lawyer - presenting _someone else's_ work. Meaning that although I was playing the part of the prosecution attorney (and later I have to be the defense attorney too), I was actually reading from Lyle Jorgenson's notes.

It was a nightmare, really. First, I couldn't remember what I had to do. Lyle did the opening argument and then we switched off and I couldn't for the life of me remember what comes next. Then, when it came back to me and I went to call the first witness, I couldn't read Lyle's notes - _at all._

I didn't want to look like an idiot so I turned to Lyle (he was sitting behind me) and tried to get him to tell me what the first name on the list was. The professor (who was acting as judge) asked me what I was doing so I said "Conferring with my colleague, Your Honor." The whole class laughed. Even the professor was trying to hide a smirk.

I fudged my way through the whole thing. I'm hoping whatever mark I get doesn't keep my from graduating.

* * *

April 18, 1990

The 'witness' part I was supposed to play was today. I don't know if it's fate or karma or just a lot of investigation on the part of my professor, but he made me the chief homicide investigator. He said that although the original trial also had the responding police officers take the stand, we didn't have enough time for all that so this 'trial' was the Reader's Digest version.

I'm really glad I did all that research now. At least when Kelly Price (she played the defense attorney during cross-examination) questioned me, I knew all the facts about the case - at least as much as is available to the public.

Maybe I won't fail after all.

* * *

April 20, 1990

Mock trial is over, thank God. At the end of it all the judge (professor) declared both defendants guilty and sentenced them to life in San Quentin. Someone shouted at Reese Martin and Bobby Sekulovich (the guys playing George and Larry at the end) that they should start planning their escape now. In real life, the Stiners escaped after serving five years.

At least all of this has proved one thing: I _definitely_ don't want to be a lawyer.

* * *

May 18, 1990

IT'S OVER!

* * *

May 19, 1990

That was probably the shortest entry I've ever written in one of these journals (I'm now up to book number fifteen).

Honestly, though, it was just such a tremendous relief. I did pass, even though I wasn't sure about it, and with a good mark too. Despite all the heartache and grief I've gone through in the past year, I passed with a 4.0 GPA. To say I was shocked is an understatement. I really thought the best I was going to get (especially after that mock trial) was a 3.0.

Uncle Pete came to my graduation with Mom and Mike. It was really, _really_ good to see him there. I still wished Dad could have seen me up there but it didn't hit me like when I graduated high school. I grinned like an idiot when I saw Uncle Pete sitting beside Mom.

After it was all over, Uncle Pete took us all out to dinner at a really fancy restaurant. He told us we could order anything we liked so I had a steak. It was amazing, period. Mike had some kind of fancy shrimp dinner and Mom ordered lobster. So did Uncle Pete, come to think of it. He also kept saying and doing things to make Mom laugh. Weird that I didn't realize that before...

It was good to see her enjoying herself, though. It doesn't happen very often.

Anyway, after it was all done (we even had dessert), Mom and Uncle Pete gave me graduation presents. I wasn't expecting anything so it came as a shock - I mean, if I'd just passed the bar that'd be one thing but I'm an undergrad. Whatever.

At any rate, Mom gave me a ring. It's gorgeous. It's got my birthstone in it (topaz - not so great but I'm not complaining), and then around that it says 'University of California Los Angeles'. On one side it reads '1990 Law' with the scales and a gavel and stuff and on the other is an image of Royce Hall with the word 'undergrad' on a scroll across it. The whole thing is in 14-karat gold and on the inside is my name 'James A Reed Jr'.

I still felt kind of uneasy about that. I mean, what with the way I've been feeling about law school lately and everything, I kind of felt bad about such an extravagant present just for being an undergrad.

To add to the problem, Uncle Pete gave me this really nice black leather briefcase. I thought it was really cool but when I saw the little engraved plaque on it by the handle I said "It says 'James A. Reed'. There's no 'junior'." Uncle Pete and Mom looked at each other real quick and then Mom said "It was Dad's, honey."

That threw me for a loop. I opened it and looked inside. It was so clean I would've sworn it was new but right next to the pen holders in the lid was a small blue streak of ink. I could just picture my dad putting his pen in there and accidentally making that mark.

I closed the briefcase and thanked Uncle Pete for it. It was really special - and just made me feel that much worse. After the commencement ceremony I felt hungry for the first time in months but now I was sorry for wolfing down such a huge meal. It was sitting like a rock in my stomach.

Uncle Pete and Mom said then that it was time to get going. I thanked them both again and then we headed out to our cars (I brought mine because I had to go back to the dorm to finish packing and say goodbye to everyone). Mom and Mike gave me a hug and said they'd see me tomorrow (today) and Uncle Pete said he was proud of me. He also said if I wanted to talk I was supposed to call him.

To my credit, I managed to drive all the way back to the dorm before I lost my supper.

* * *

June 13, 1990

Today is the day they 'officially' started tearing down the Berlin Wall. It's been coming down for a while in bits and pieces thanks to the citizens but today the military officially started dismantling it.

That's kind of how I feel at the moment.

All year long I've been crumbling inside a little bit at a time. Today I took the first step in bringing the wall down entirely. Mom's going to go ballistic.


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N:** Are we sick of Author's Notes yet? Fun fact: Jimmy's classmate in the previous chapter - Bobby Sekulovich - was named after the late Karl Malden of _Streets of San Francisco_ fame (another favorite show of mine). I did a little reading on him and discovered that his name was originally 'Mladen Sekulovich' and, to make his dad happy, he made sure at least one character in everything he acted in had the name 'Sekulovich'. I laughed out loud when I watched him in _Patton_ on Memorial Day and no one understood why until I explained it. The only time it backfired was when he listed one of the inmates in _Birdman of Alcatraz_ as Sekulovich - his father was appalled.

Interesting? No? Okay, maybe it's just me. Back to your regularly-scheduled programming...

* * *

June 17, 1990

Today was Dad's barbecue. Uncle Pete came and this time I let him do the cooking. When it was time to eat I just pushed my potato salad around on my plate for a while and then excused myself. Mom asked if the food was alright but I just wasn't hungry.

I can hear her and Uncle Pete in the living room, talking. Mike took off to go meet up with some friends. Now is probably the best opportunity to tell them but I just can't bring myself to do it.

Sometimes I wish I was still 14...

* * *

July 2, 1990

I was at the memorial fountain again today. I was sitting there, lost in thought, when someone sat down beside me.

It was Uncle Pete.

The first thing he said was "You figured out how you're going to tell her yet?" I couldn't have been more surprised if he'd slapped me upside the head with a two-by-four. I looked up and he smiled at me and said "You think I wouldn't hear about it if Jim Reed's kid applied to the Academy - _my_ Academy?"

Of course he would. I should've thought of that at the beginning. I didn't know how to answer him though so I just shrugged.

He then asked "Is this what's been bugging you all year?" I shook my head. He went on "Your mother is worried about you. _I'm_ worried about you." I asked him why. "You're pale, you've lost weight and you're not eating. Did that steak stay down?"

I could feel the heat rise into my cheeks as I blushed. Was it that obvious? I mean, sure, my clothes are a little loose but could he actually predict that?

"Heck of a waste of twenty bucks."

I blushed harder. I promised I'd pay him back but he just laughed and told me to forget it. Then he asked why I kept coming here. When I looked at him he said he'd seen me a couple of times and a few of the people that worked at the Glass House (that's what he called Parker Center) told him they'd seen a ghost. When I asked what that meant he said "You really have no idea how much you look like him, do you?"

I picked at the knees of my loose jeans and said "Not that much anymore."

Uncle Pete agreed and said "You're going to have to gain some to get back in shape before the physical, you know. That means getting whatever's bugging you off your chest."

For some reason, the memory of walking into the house after the incident last year popped into my head. At the time it seemed only logical to wait until I could see my mom in person before telling her what happened. It wasn't until I actually did it that I realized it was the wrong way to go about it.

Something clued her in right away that things weren't right. I never did figure out whether it was me being there with Uncle Pete or it being a school day or what it was, but she knew right away that something was up.

I tried downplaying it, saying I got caught up in someone else's fight, but she fired questions at me one after the other until I couldn't get a word in edgewise. By that time everything that had happened was coming back to me like scenes a B-movie and I just shut down. Instead of talking about it, I just said "I'm fine" and went to my room. Both she and Uncle Pete tried to get me to come out and talk but I closed the door and went to bed. It was the beginning of the spiral of depression that led to me not going back to school and Uncle Pete bringing Roy over. I figure he (Uncle Pete) must've told Mom what happened because she never asked about it again. She _did_ tell me, though, not to put off telling her things anymore.

I don't know why that memory came back this time. It wouldn't be the same thing at all once Mom found out. This time I wasn't trying to break up a fight or save anyone's life. She'd be devastated. I told Uncle Pete that.

"I would have to disagree with you, there," he said. "Sure she'll be a little upset but she's always only wanted what was best for _you_ \- what _you_ want. And as for saving a life..." He picked at my jeans the same way I had. "It might just do that."

We must've sat there for at least another ten minutes, not saying anything, while thoughts rambled through my brain like rail cars at a switching yard. After a while I got up and walked over to the fountain and Uncle Pete followed me.

I stared at the names listed on the base of the fountain, watching the tears trickle down. Finally I asked Uncle Pete if he knew about any of the officers listed there. He said he knew some - mostly from around the time he was on the force, although he'd heard of a few others. We then started walking around the fountain while he told me the ones he knew about. Some of the older ones were a bit strange, like one guy who was killed by a streetcar, but the newer they got the more predictable they became. Shot, killed in car accidents, killed in motorcycle accidents... there was even a Commander like Uncle Pete who'd been killed in a helicopter accident.

When we'd made it all the way around, Uncle Pete asked me if I'd figured anything out. I said 'no' and he said I could always change my mind - that he could have my application pulled. For some reason that went through me like a bolt of lightning. I looked up at him and he stared at me for a moment. Then he sighed and said "No, I guess you can't." He put a hand on my shoulder and told me he'd come with me to talk to Mom if I wanted.

I really did - but I couldn't. He and Mom were getting along so well, I just couldn't drag him into it and have her upset with him all over again. I told him thanks but I'd deal with it. Then I asked him if he was disappointed in me. His answer was one word that made me feel better than I had in months:

"Never."

* * *

July 7, 1990

I didn't tell Mom after she got home on Monday. I told myself she worked all day and was tired and it wasn't fair.

I didn't tell her Tuesday for the same reason. Wednesday was the 4th and I didn't want to ruin everyone's fun. We went to the parade, did the barbecue thing and saw the fireworks - it just wasn't the right time. I recycled Monday's excuse for Thursday and Friday.

Today, though, I didn't have an excuse.

Mike left to go hang out with his friends and it was just me and Mom. I'd already told Uncle Pete when he phoned last night that I was going to talk to Mom today, so he knew not to come over. Mom was sitting in the living room, watching TV and knitting and I'd been pacing my room for half an hour, trying to come up with the right words to say. I figured what I had planned was going to have to be good enough so I squared my shoulders and walked into the living room.

The first thing I did was ask if I could talk to her. Mom doesn't really appreciate it when people interrupt her television programs. I know it sounds like another attempt at getting out of it, but it's true - if you want her in a good frame of mind for talking, make sure she's not in the middle of something she wants to watch. She doesn't do it very often, so it's not like it's a big issue, but usually when she's in front of the TV it's because there's something on she wants to see.

Sometimes, though, she turns it on just because she wants something to look at while she's doing something else - like knitting. She says it's tedious so she needs a diversion. I don't really get it but if it works for her...

At any rate, I asked her if we could talk and she said 'sure' and shut the TV off. Then she told me to go ahead while she kept right on knitting. I kind of wished she'd stop because it was distracting but I started anyway. I began by saying that I needed to discuss something with her that was very important. Then I said that I had something that was bothering me that I had to get off my chest.

At that point she set down her knitting (thank God) and told me to spit it out. Just like that. "Spit it out, Jimmy." I wished it were that easy.

I said "I've got three more years of school before I take the bar exam." She nodded. Then I said "The thing is... I don't want to be a lawyer."

She picked up her knitting again and said "Well then, you don't _have_ to be a lawyer if you don't want to. That's entirely up to you."

I said "It bothers me that I've wasted all that time and money - especially since you and Dad and Uncle Pete worked so hard to save it up for me."

To which she said "It was meant for your education, Jimmy. Nobody said it had to be spent on law school. And I don't consider an undergraduate degree a 'waste of time'."

So I said "What about medical school?"

She put her needles down again. "You want to be a doctor?"

I said no, but Mike did. She looked confused. I took a deep breath and said "Mike wants to be a doctor. That's expensive. Can you put the money saved for me in Mike's account?"

"But what are you going to do?" she asked.

I opened my mouth but the words wouldn't come out so I closed it again and stared at my hands. I tried to think of how Dad would've handled this situation but my mind was blank. I couldn't even remember the speech I'd so carefully rehearsed. All I could think about was how much this was going to upset her.

Finally she asked "Have you decided to be a street artist after all?"

I blinked. I'd totally forgotten the conversation we'd had where I told her she didn't need to worry about me joining the police academy. It made me feel even worse. I looked up at her and she could see it in my face, I think, because the next thing she said was "Oh no."

She said it really softly but it was like she'd shouted through a bullhorn. I felt terrible then but it only got worse. She carefully put her knitting back in the basket, got up from the couch and went to her room. I heard the door close and that was it - I was left sitting by myself on a chair with a couple of tears rolling down my face. She hadn't said anything other than those two words but I knew without a doubt that I'd just crushed her.

I wanted to go and tell her I didn't mean it - that I'd find something else to do - but I just sat there. I couldn't add to the problem by lying to her. I had no intention of going to find something else. I suddenly realized how my dad must've felt when he told her he couldn't quit. I hadn't even started and yet I knew there wasn't anything else I could do.


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N:** Yes, another author's note! As I've stated before, a lot of research has gone into this. Most dates given are fairly close to what actual dates should have been when cross-referencing current calendars and schedules with calendars for the year in question. However in the short time since I finished writing this story, I've found a few errors in other spots as well. Kudos to anyone who can pick them out (might as well wait until the end, though). I'd rewrite this but it won't detract from the story at all.

Thanks again to my guest reviewers. Onward...

* * *

July 18, 1990

I went to see Uncle Pete today. It wasn't easy. First of all, I've never been to Elysian Park before and since I was driving, I had to divide my attention between traffic and not getting lost. When I finally got there I couldn't just park somewhere and go inside, either. There's a security checkpoint that you have to stop at first to state your business. When I told the guy I was there to see Commander Malloy, he picked up a phone and called to see if it was alright to let me in. Apparently they had to track down Uncle Pete because the guy hung up and said I'd have to wait for a call-back. At least there wasn't anyone behind me waiting to get in.

A few minutes later the phone rang and once he hung up the guy let me go through. He gave me specific directions on how to get where I needed to go and where to park - which was a good thing, because it turned out Uncle Pete wasn't in his office, he was at the firing range.

Once I'd found that and parked the car, I walked toward the firing range only to see Uncle Pete walking out of it. He said it was great to see me and told me to walk with him back to his office.

Apparently Uncle Pete walks everywhere at the Academy. It's doing him a lot of good, too, because he's a lot trimmer than he was when he was working at his old station. As we walked he asked me how things were going and I told him the truth - they weren't going well at all. Since I'd talked to Mom (or, rather, didn't talk to her) she hadn't said more than a few words to me and those were things like 'set the table' and 'I need your laundry'. I told Uncle Pete I figured it was time I moved out.

He didn't say anything for a while. We walked across a kind of quad area and then we headed into the building where his office was. He asked me if I'd had lunch yet and I said 'no'. I wasn't hungry, really. Since I'd talked to Mom I'd worked on getting my appetite back and I was doing better but I still didn't eat a lot.

We were at his office by then. I thought he'd turn around and head for the cafeteria (or whatever they had there - I think it's actually a mess hall) but he didn't. Once we were sitting down he asked me what happened when I talked to Mom, so I told him. When I was done he just stared off into the distance without saying anything. I was beginning to think he might've had another stroke when he finally shook his head and said "I'll talk to her."

That was the last thing I wanted. I was pretty sure that Mom would blame him if he got involved so I didn't want him to. When I said that, however, he insisted everything would be fine and I was to leave it to him. He also said I should wait on moving out until I was sure I wasn't going to the Academy as it was kind of pointless to get a place only to have to move out right away.

We talked a little more about random stuff - things like what was I doing with my time (not a lot), had I heard anything about my application (I had an interview and had to do an essay test but that was it) and what Mike was up to nowadays. The kid has amazing coping skills. He had to know that there was friction between me and Mom but he kept himself in a kind of neutral zone where he didn't avoid me or her but didn't try to interfere, either. He was spending a lot of time away from home - probably out of self-preservation - but lately I'd been leaving the house for most of the day to keep the peace.

At any rate, the conversation wound down after a while so I told Uncle Pete I was going to go. He asked if I was heading home but I honestly didn't know so I just shrugged. He put a hand on my shoulder and told me not to worry. I wish it were that easy.

* * *

July 22, 1990

Since I've pretty much made up my mind about not going back to law school, I applied for a job with a tour guide company. It's one of those that takes groups of tourists on buses to see celebrity homes and famous filming locations. The interview went pretty well. Tomorrow I go in to talk to the manager about joining one of the tour groups. It's not what I want to do for the rest of my life but at least I'll be out of the deep freeze that's home.

* * *

August 4, 1990

Still haven't heard back from the Academy. Work's going okay. I didn't know about a lot of those places and I've lived here all my life. It's kind of interesting. I actually conduct a few tours now instead of just riding around with the tour guide making sure everyone gets back on the bus at the stops.

I don't think Uncle Pete's talked to Mom yet, and if he did it didn't help. Things are just as icy there as ever. I managed to pick up a couple of extra hours by helping clean the buses but after that I'd have to go home.

I used to try to stall by taking a long route home by bus or by walking to a further stop than the one I used just to kill time. A little while ago, though, I was walking past one of those kiddie baseball diamonds and heard a ruckus going on so I stopped to see what was happening.

Long story short, there was a bunch of kids there for practice but they weren't getting a lot done because their coach had gone off to find a phone. I stuck around and tossed the ball a bit until the coach came back just to keep them occupied. When he did we talked for a bit and it turned out his assistant coach hadn't shown up so it was just him and a dozen little kids.

Since I didn't really want to go home and had nowhere else to be, I told him that I'd stick around and help out, if he wanted. I had to learn a bit about the game they were playing, though, because I wasn't really familiar with it but I caught on pretty quick.

By the time we were done it was starting to get dark. Charley (the coach) sent some of the kids home and piled the rest in a van he had. I told him thanks and was about to leave when he asked me if I could come again next Thursday. I didn't have a problem with it - it was kind of fun - but I figured his assistant coach would be back so why did he need me?

He gave me this kind of screwed-up smirk and said his assistant coach didn't show up on time, if he showed at all, and he could still use the extra hand. After having seen the amount of energy a pack of ten-year-olds could drum up, I had to agree. We settled on a time and I left.

Since then I've been going after work a couple of times a week to help Charley with the team. I get a kick out of helping the kids out and it keeps me out of the house, so it's a win-win situation, as far as I'm concerned.

* * *

August 9, 1990

Uncle Pete was at the house when I got home today but I didn't stop to say more than 'hi' to him. I really needed a shower after what I went through at practice. Little kids are a handful - I really lucked out having Mike for a little brother.

Charley told me tonight that they weren't an actual Little League team but that they were trying to be - they just need a sponsor. I'm going to talk to my manager tomorrow and see if they'd be willing to do it. Can't hurt, right?

* * *

August 10, 1990

Spoke to my manager today. He told me to go talk to Mr. Trumbull, the guy who owns the tour company. Mr. Trumbull had a bunch of questions for me that I didn't have answers to so he told me to get Charley to call him. Since I didn't run the idea past Charley yet, I hope he's game for it.

* * *

August 14, 1990

Talked to Charley today and gave him Mr. Trumbull's phone number. He seems really stoked at the idea of having an actual sponsor. I have to say I'm relieved - I didn't know if he'd take to the idea at all or if he'd be offended that I butted in like that. Guess I got lucky.

* * *

August 16, 1990

Charley says Mr. Trumbull is willing to sponsor the team. It's too late for them to join any Little League tournaments but at least it's a start. Maybe by this time next year they'll be in the Little League World Series. Not.

* * *

August 20, 1990

Mr. Trumbull must've lit a fire under somebody. I've got a whole box of little blue t-shirts in my room that say 'Trumbull Tours' on them. They sure are tiny. I can't wait to see the looks on the kids' faces when I show up with these tomorrow.

* * *

August 23, 1990

The shirts went over great. The kids were ecstatic to put them on and it seemed like they played even harder (although not much better - they've got a lot of heart, though) once they had them on.

That is, until today. When I showed up at the diamond, Charley was talking to a group of 4 or 5 mothers who seemed pretty irate. It turned out that they had problems with the kids 'taking charity' and were telling Charley they couldn't afford to have their kids play in an official organization, due to the fees and such. I helped Charley explain to them that the tour company was sponsoring the team - no fees attached - and that if any expenses came up unexpectedly, we'd do some sort of fundraiser so the kids wouldn't have to pay out-of-pocket for anything. That seemed to calm them down, somewhat.

After the commotion died down, a couple of them left but the others hung around to watch the kids play. One of them commented that they weren't any good but I told her it didn't matter - as long as they were having fun and keeping out of trouble, it was all worth it. Besides, they really liked the idea of being a part of something. She just kind of snorted and said "As long as he don't end up like his father, I don't care." I didn't ask her what she meant.

* * *

September 3, 1990

Things have warmed up a bit at home but I'm still not there much. Although the baseball season is essentially over, Charley is keeping the practices going so as to give the kids something to do.

Apparently creating an actual Little League team is a lot of work. There's registration, background checks (another one), talking to officials, getting someone from the League to come talk to the parents... The list goes on and on.

I don't mind, though. Not only does it keep me occupied when I'm not working but it also keeps my mind off of other things. Namely: how I haven't heard from the Academy yet and how things are going at home. If I don't focus on those too much, I'm actually in a pretty good mood and my appetite is close to normal. Charley's going to be leaving on vacation in November, though, so the team will be taking a break. I'm hoping that doesn't throw a wrench into everything.


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N:** No 'fun fact' this time - my timetable has been pushed up. The remainder of this story will be posted in the next few days.

* * *

September 26, 1990

It's been a long, long day. I was supposed to clean buses after the last tour today but there was a meeting with the people from the Little League Organization down at the community center near the ball diamond. We had a pretty good turnout, actually, with most of the parents showing up. I didn't realize how much went into creating an official team. At least, an official 'local' team. Charley wants to hold off a bit on actually going into the bigger stuff. I suppose it's a good idea - it lets him know what he's in for and gives him a chance to get his feet wet. The way I figure it, even if these kids don't go to the World Series, at least they've got something worthwhile and fun to do.

* * *

November 6, 1990

Be careful what you wish for...

Today when I got home, all I was thinking about was what I was going to do for a distraction for the next two weeks. Charley's leaving for his vacation on Thursday, so there won't be any practice.

When I walked into the house, Mom was sitting in the living room, waiting for me. It doesn't sound like a big deal but ever since our 'non-conversation', she's usually in bed by the time I get home. Tonight, though, she got up from the couch as soon as I walked through the door and asked me if I'd eaten yet. Apparently she'd kept supper warm for me (another thing that doesn't usually happen - most of the time I heat it up myself in the microwave or just grab a sandwich) and as soon as I said 'no', she went into the kitchen to get it.

I was kind of confused at the change of heart but decided to roll with it and see what was up. Once she laid out my plate and stuff, she sat down at the table and waited for me to start. As soon as I sat down I knew what was really going on: there was an envelope next to my plate with the Academy's return address on it.

I started to eat my supper but Mom said "Aren't you going to open it?" I looked at her for a second and said I'd rather eat first. She just sat there while I did that, fidgeting with the tea towel she'd used to bring out my plate. I could tell just having that letter lying there was making her really nervous and I felt kind of bad. I figured I should take it to my room to find out what it said but then I remembered her words after the incident at the beach - don't wait to tell her things anymore.

At last I just put down my fork and opened the letter. It took a second for the words to register but it finally sunk in that I'd been accepted. On the one hand I was so excited I wanted to shout for joy but on the other I knew that Mom wasn't going to be happy with the news. To her credit, she didn't say anything until I was done reading and had folded up the letter again, and then it was only "Well?"

I gave it to her and waited while she read it. When she was finished she handed it back and said "Congratulations". It was kind of flat, though, the way she said it, so I knew she didn't really mean it. I opened my mouth to say something - I don't know what - but she just shook her head, touched my cheek and left.

Uncle Pete will already know about it, so I don't have to tell him. I hope he'll talk to Mom - for all the good it'll do. I don't want to upset her but I can't turn it down. Not 'I don't want to' but I really, _really_ can't. I need to do this.

I'll have to phone Charley tomorrow and let him know I won't be back. I have to report to the Academy next Tuesday.

* * *

November 8, 1990

Twenty one.

Although officially you can't join the Academy until you're twenty-one, you can _apply_ to join when you're twenty and a half, which is what I did. I'm now twenty-one, though, so when I go in on Tuesday I'll be the same age as everyone else. It's been a long time since I've been with a group of people my age.

Uncle Pete came and took us all out to an early dinner to celebrate my birthday. Mr. Trumbull gave me the day off so we actually ate at about six thirty, which was great. I also didn't have much of an issue with my appetite so the steak I ate is still with me - although it _is_ sitting kind of heavy.

Dinner was a little awkward. Mike is genuinely happy for me at getting accepted to the Academy but he can't be too vocal about it since Mom is upset. Uncle Pete was trying to liven things up a bit but Mom was being a real downer. On the one hand I'm sorry that I've upset and disappointed her, but on the other I really wish she'd just get over it already. I understand where she's coming from but she's starting to irritate me - a lot.

I talked to Jenny for a bit after we got home. She called to wish me 'happy birthday' and in the background I could hear her dad telling her to say it from him, too. I still think he's a really cool guy but I just can't get the image of that god-awful shirt out of my head. Jenny told me once that they've tried to talk him out of wearing them, but his partner gave him the first one a long time ago and he's been stuck on them ever since.

Jason phoned me today too, in-between calls. It was weird talking to him after all this time - I figured he'd gotten so busy he'd forgotten about me but I guess he didn't. I was going to tell him about the letter but never got around to it. He said he's got tomorrow off and he'll call then. I think he said something about going out but right as he said it this huge alarm went off and he said 'Gotta go' and hung up.

I just can't imagine being a firefighter. Not even a little bit.

* * *

November 22, 1990

This is the first chance I've had since I got here to sit down and write about what's been going on. We just got back from the Academy's version of 'Thanksgiving dinner' and now we're on free time until lights-out.

I did take a few minutes to call home. I wished Mom a happy Thanksgiving but she didn't talk much. She did ask how I was doing but I had the feeling she didn't want me going into too much detail so I kept it short. She said "That's good - here's your brother" so I guess that was all the info she wanted.

My conversation with Mike was a bit longer but not by much. I could tell he had to watch what he was saying, so I guess Mom was hanging around just within earshot. Mike said Uncle Pete had been by for supper but didn't stick around long after.

I was wondering why I didn't see him around today. It would've been nice to talk to him, even if only for a minute. It _is_ Thanksgiving, after all. I don't suppose he could've even if he'd been here, though - it wouldn't be appropriate for the Commander to be seen hanging with one of the cadets.

* * *

December 23, 1990

Right after I wrote that last bit, I fell asleep and didn't wake up until reveille. I didn't have time to do more than lock my journal away before we were back at it. They run this place like a boot camp, I swear.

I have to admit, everything about this place fascinates me. Whether it's the classes or the training or even just the buildings, it's all amazing. Since I've got my undergrad in law, I figured I'd have a bit of an advantage over the other cadets but it didn't turn out that way. Everything I learned in law school I'm now having to go through again but from a different perspective.

The biggest adjustment for me (aside from the whole 'almost-military' atmosphere) was the intensity of everything we're doing. It's like everyone here has an inner fire that keeps them going. I'm kind of used to the way things were at school and at work - they were hard at it, sure, but here you can just feel the... I don't know the word for it. Passion, I guess.

We're just barely a month in and already a couple of guys have dropped out. The women stay in a different dorm and sort of stick together so I'm not too sure about them but I think one left as well. It seems like there's a face missing from one of the other groups.

Christmas is only a couple of days away and we've got a pass to go home if we want to but I don't know if I should. On the one hand I really miss Mike and my mom but on the other I think they'd probably have a nicer time if I wasn't there making Mom tense.

When I met up with Jason back in November he said-

Have to finish this later. Time's up.

* * *

December 24, 1990

Uncle Pete stopped me as I was coming out of the weight room today. He said I should go home for Christmas no matter how uncomfortable it makes me. He also said I should get used to being the cause of discomfort. I said I would.

I also told him, though, that I hadn't planned on staying away for my sake but for Mom's. He told me it'd be worse if I didn't go.

I have an LAPD sweatshirt for Mike, an LAPD t-shirt for Jason (he'll get a laugh out of it) and a really nice engraved pen set for Uncle Pete. I've also got a present for Mom... I hope she likes it.


	33. Chapter 33

December 25, 1990

So much for Christmas dinner. I couldn't swallow anything.

I was right about the tension level - it skyrocketed right around the time we started opening presents.

Things were alright when I first got home. Mike was really glad to see me and Mom seemed happy, too, but it was kind of forced. Thinking back on it now, I think Mom uses distance as a defense mechanism. If it makes things easier for her, I guess...

Uncle Pete really liked his pen set (I had his name put on it - he's always saying someone swiped his pen) and Mike put on his sweatshirt right away while saying "Totally rad! Thanks Jay!" at the top of his voice. He seriously needs to expand his vocabulary if he's going to be a doctor. Seriously.

Uncle Pete and I both looked at Mom when Mike opened his present. She'd been smiling before but right then it had disappeared and a kind of frown was in its place. There wasn't anything I could do about that, though, so I just told Mike he was welcome and gave Mom her present.

It had taken some doing, but I'd gone to HR and asked them for a copy of my dad's cadet photo. I got the idea after having my own photo taken for ID when I started at the Academy. The woman there was extremely helpful and spent a lot of her own time hunting down Dad's old personnel file and getting a copy. When I told her what I wanted it for, she had his photo blown up to a 5x7 - and she got mine done as well. I had to do a bit of hunting but I finally found one of those hinged double frames that holds the photos vertically and I put both of them in it. The neat thing was, when Dad had his photo taken, he was turned a little to the left - and I was turned a little to the right. When I put both the pictures in the frame, it looked kind of like we were facing each other.

They weren't the official ID photos - in those you have to face the camera straight on, no smiling, neck up. These were another kind that they take at the same time, although I don't know what they're for. They're a little more relaxed and are taken from the chest up. I thought they looked pretty good.

I probably should've asked Uncle Pete what he thought of the idea before I had them made up, but I didn't do it. I guess part of me just wanted to see what would happen. The result was a little anticlimactic: Mom opened the frame, looked at the pictures, closed it and said "Thank you, Jimmy." That was it. She set it down on the table next to her chair and went on to open her gift from Mike.

I looked at Uncle Pete and he raised his eyebrows at me. I just shrugged and shook my head. I'd really thought she'd like the gift but I guess I was way off-base on that. I have to say it totally killed my mood. After the rest of the gifts got opened we all went into the dining room for supper. Uncle Pete served and Mom acted like everything was normal but I had totally lost my appetite - again.

Right around then the phone rang. It was Jason, wishing me a merry Christmas. I couldn't keep the dull tone out of my voice so he told me as soon as I could cut loose to come see him. He said he was working so if I showed up and no one was there, I was supposed to wait. I had my gift for him anyway so I told him I would.

I wasn't about to leave in the middle of supper, though, no matter if I was eating or not. I tried to participate in the conversation that was going on but it seemed like it was going around me instead of to me. Mom talked to Uncle Pete and Mike, Mike talked to Mom and Uncle Pete, and Uncle Pete talked to everyone. At least, he tried to. Every time he said something to me and I answered, things would get quiet for a little while and then Mom or Mike would start talking about something else.

As soon as it looked like they were done eating, I asked to be excused. Uncle Pete asked me where I was going - and I was about to tell him I was taking Jason his Christmas present - but Mom cut me off and said I could go. I cleared my dishes off the table, went to my room, grabbed all the stuff I'd brought with me when I came home and left.

I'm currently on my bunk writing this. It's almost midnight so I'll leave off here and continue tomorrow.

* * *

December 26, 1990

I'm sitting in the library. Barely anyone is here and it's so quiet you can hear the rain hitting the windows - and they're like fifty feet away.

Anyway...

So I left and drove over to where Jason works. It took some doing because I wasn't really familiar with the area but traffic was light, so even with getting lost once it didn't take much time to get there. I couldn't see a place to park except for this one spot right out front (it looked too much like reserved parking to me) so I went down the block a little and parked at this truck parts place next door. It was closed so I figured I was safe.

I walked back to the station and it was then that I realized the overhead door was open and the bay was empty. Since Jason had warned me it might happen, I went inside like he told me and headed through a side door into what looked like a kitchen-slash-living room.

No one was there, either, so I sat down on the sofa. I read a newspaper that was lying there and was just starting to think about heading back to my car to grab this book when I heard vehicles with big engines backing into the bay. I didn't think it would look right to be lounging around when they walked in so I stood up and waited.

A couple of minutes later I heard the engines shut off and doors banging and people talking. I was torn between waiting where I was and heading out into the bay but it wasn't long before someone came through the door. Unfortunately, it wasn't Jason. The guy came loping in, rubbing his hands together, and headed straight for the refrigerator. He opened it and stuck his head inside without even noticing me.

Next thing I knew, three more guys and a woman came through the door. They all stopped when they saw me and one of them said "Who the heck are you?"

I figured the best defense was a good offense, so I walked up to him, stuck my hand out and introduced myself. I think it was more reflex that he shook my hand than anything else. Another guy - the captain, judging from the insignia on his collar tabs - asked me what I was doing there so I said I was looking for Jason Davies. The woman pushed the door open and yelled "Hey, boot!" I thought it was kind of odd because I know 'boot' is a term for a rookie and Jason must've been there for at least a year, if not longer.

A moment later Jason came through the door. As soon as he saw me he grinned from ear to ear and came over to shake my hand and slap me on the shoulder, saying "Good to see you, man!" and "You're looking pretty buff, there, dude." I think he and Mike must get together to make lists of obsolete slang words, honestly.

After he introduced me to everyone, we went out back of the station to hang out for a bit. Jason said it was so we'd be out of the way while they got supper ready. Apparently the families of each of the firefighters brought in food for Christmas dinner and all they had to do was warm it up "If we get time to do it," Jason said.

We weren't out there for more than a second when Jason told me to wait while he ran back inside. When he came out he was holding a badly-wrapped present and handed it to me. I gave him his gift and we unwrapped them at the same time. When I saw what was in it I started laughing so hard I couldn't catch my breath. Jason was just as bad off as I was.

We'd given each other t-shirts.

Mine said 'LACoFD' and his said 'LAPD'. They looked almost identical except for the letters and the symbol on the front. When I could catch my breath again, I said "Maybe if I go back home wearing this, my mom will be happier to see me."

I probably shouldn't have said it because it kind of put a downer on things, but Jason just said "Maybe" and then asked me what happened. I told him just the bare bones of it mostly because I didn't want to dump everything on him. He just shook his head and said "I'm sorry, man. That's rough." I changed the subject then, asking him how things were at the station and at home. He told me a bit about his family - his sister had gotten married and was expecting her first kid - and lots about the station and the people that worked there. I could tell he was just as excited to be there now as he was when he first joined up and I was happy for him.

The guy Jason said was the engineer - Doyle - came out just then to tell 'Boot' that chow was on. I asked Jason why they called him that. He kind of grimaced and said "It's a step up from what they used to call me." Doyle laughed and said "Hey _kiddo_... Time for num-nums!" I had to agree with Jason - that sucked. I guess it's because he's the youngest one there or something.

Jason told me to stick around while they ate but I knew there wasn't any guarantee they wouldn't get called out in the middle of it and I didn't want to wait until they got back so I told him I had to get going. He told me to call him next Saturday, if I could, and I left.

* * *

December 27, 1990

When I got back to the Academy, I left the t-shirt in the car because I wasn't sure how it'd be received during inspection. As I was unpacking in my room I looked out the window and saw Uncle Pete's car drive by and I figured he'd be calling for me pretty quick so I ducked out the back door. No one came looking for me so I figured either he hadn't called for me or they couldn't find me - either of which suited me fine. When they closed the library I went back to my room and went to bed.

I kind of thought I'd hear from him today but there wasn't any messages for me and when I headed over to the training grounds for a run, his car wasn't in its usual spot. I put it out of my mind while I ran and then headed back in for a shower. It wasn't until I got here and started writing that I let myself think about it all again.

Which reminds me: back a couple of entries I started to write what Jason said to me back in November when we got together but I never finished it. Since I've written tons already, I'll just sum it up as best I can.

We met up at a kind of pub place not far from where Jason lives and he bought me a drink and some fries (I didn't want much to eat) and we had a long talk. He said his dad wasn't too happy about him joining the fire department and his mom was always telling him of all the terrible things she'd heard happen to firefighters but he didn't let it get to him. He said neither of them understood what it meant to him and he couldn't change that - but neither could he change the way he felt about joining the department. He told me that for a while, when he was waiting to see if he got hired on, he actually entertained the idea of staying and working for his dad but the idea made him so miserable he actually felt sick. Even when I was teasing him about being nuts for wanting to join, he still couldn't imagine doing anything else. I asked him then if he knew what it was that made him want to do it. He hummed and hawed for a while, and then said "It's not that I _want_ to - it's that I _need_ to."

I suppose to the average person that doesn't make any sense - and, in fact, right up until I decided to apply to the Academy it didn't make sense to me either. Now, though, I understand completely.

Back when my last semester started and I was trying to find some part of it all that appealed to me, I was tearing myself apart trying to figure out what - if being a lawyer wasn't it - that I really wanted to do. Every time it started to get to me really badly, I'd hop on a bus and go somewhere to think.

It took doing that about ten times before I realized that I always ended up at the same place - the memorial fountain.

At first I told myself it was because I felt closer to Dad there but deep down I knew that wasn't it - if I wanted to do that, I could go to his grave at the cemetery. Eventually I had to admit that even though I'd started out every visit thinking about what it was that I wanted to do, my mind would always turn to the names on that fountain and the people who owned them.

After a couple of months of that, I remembered the conversation I'd had with Uncle Pete in his office the day he told me about how Dad died. How each person that joined the force did so not because of what it did for _them_ but because of what it meant they could do for _others_. Each of the names on the fountain was there not so much because they died - grave markers do that - but because they died while helping other people. Suddenly that fountain didn't seem so much ominous as it did impressive.

Then I thought about the number of people that were out there right now doing what they could to help others - whether the average citizen realized it or not, like Uncle Pete had said. Putting themselves out there in bad weather and dangerous situations all to make life better and safer for everyone else. There would always be a criminal element - that was a given - and it was people like my dad and the guys on that fountain that did their best every day to make sure that that element didn't take over entirely.

At that point I figured I should stop whining and do my part by going back to school and passing the bar exam. Surely the lawyers of the world were just as important as the cops in putting the criminals in jail. But even as I thought it I started to get that familiar sick feeling in my stomach - long hours closeted away with books and papers, standing in a courtroom trying to turn the two-dimensional facts of the case into something three-dimensional so the judge and jury could see the guilty party with their own eyes... Doing something useful, yes, but only _after the fact._ And then it was up to someone else to do the right thing.

That's when the light bulb went off. _The right thing._ I had to _do_ the right thing - I _needed_ to. I had to be _active_ in doing it, not just present it to someone else to do and trust that they would. I briefly toyed with the idea of joining the fire department like Jason did but it didn't feel right. Yes, they did amazing (crazy) and important work but it wasn't the same.

I remember looking up at the fountain then and imagining myself as one of them - one of the thousands of people that went out every day and did the right thing. Regardless of popularity or trend, political or religious belief - it was_ the right thing_. And I felt like I could do it.

I tried to imagine what Dad would say if I told him what I was thinking and I heard his voice as clear as day saying "It's not as glamorous as you think it is, Jimmy. It's hard work and long hours. It's seedy people and dirty situations. It's puke on your shoes and it's probably your own. Are you sure you want to put yourself through all that for a meager paycheck and a wall of contempt everywhere you go?"

And the only answer I could come up with was 'Yes'.


	34. Chapter 34

December 29, 1990

I was running on the track today, letting my mind wander as it does when I run, when I suddenly realized someone was running alongside me. When I looked over I was surprised to see it was Uncle Pete. I decided to tease him a bit.

When I run at the track, I like to go around a few times at a jog and then sprint one lap before going back to a jog. I figured since I hadn't seen him on any of my other laps he must've just started and wouldn't know my routine. As soon as I realized he was there, I broke into a sprint and raced around the track, slowing down as I came up on him again. He looked at me and said "Showoff."

We went around halfway before he said anything else, and that was just "I want to talk to you."

I said 'okay' and waited. I thought maybe he wanted to use the opportunity we had because it's not easy to just chat the way we usually did, now that I'm a cadet. He didn't though. We were back to where I'd caught up with him before he added "Not here. Meet me at the coffee shop at eight," and slowed to a walk.

I kept on going, watching him as he got off the track and walked around a bit to cool down. He was still doing that when I came around again so I said 'okay' and then sped up - it was my second lap at a jog. By the time I finished my sprint lap he was gone.

The coffee shop he meant was one a few blocks away from the Academy. Since it was a weekend, the schedule isn't as strict as on a weekday but you still have to have a pass to go off grounds. Luckily my group had one (which he would've known already), I just hadn't made use of it yet.

Anyway... When I say 'a few blocks', it sounds as though it's a short walk away, when in reality it isn't. I could walk there, I suppose, but even by car it's a twenty-minute drive - mostly because of traffic. A lot of people don't know it but the LAPD Academy isn't off somewhere picturesque all by itself like it seems in the movies. It's actually smack-dab in the middle of LA right next to Dodger Stadium and the traffic is horrendous.

I got there a bit early and a few minutes later Uncle Pete showed up. He bought himself a coffee - I had a coke already - and then came and sat down. He didn't bother with the small-talk but came right to the point: he wanted me to go home for New Year's supper.

It wouldn't be a problem with the Academy - it was a holiday, after all - but I really didn't think it was a good idea and I said so. On New Year's day, my mom cooks a meal almost as big as the one at Christmas (except she serves ham instead of turkey) and it's a pretty big deal, usually. Unfortunately after what happened at Christmas I really didn't think I should be there for the meal.

Uncle Pete said something uncharacteristically blunt about the location of my head and told me I should start the new year as I wanted to end it - with family. I told him I understood that and I agreed with it but I didn't think Mom would like it. Then I reminded him of how dinner at Christmas went and he said "Give her a chance. You were thinking about it for months before you sprung it on her. She's only had a few weeks."

He had me there. It was a major thing to get used to - especially after telling her for years that I wouldn't do it. I rubbed my forehead while I thought about it and, to my surprise, Uncle Pete laughed. He said "It's been years since I've seen that" which only added to my confusion. When he explained that my dad used to do that whenever he was thinking, though, I had to laugh too.

I finally said I would go, despite my misgivings. Uncle Pete was right about giving Mom time to adjust and maybe - just maybe - things would go more smoothly than it had when I was there at Christmas. It was worth a shot and, more importantly, it was the right thing to do if for no other reason than to show her that I was doing alright and wasn't angry about the situation.

I wasn't, really. I could've been except that I could understand why Mom was being the way she was - it was solely out of fear. I didn't think she loved me any less than when I was in law school, she was just afraid that by joining the police department she was going to lose me the way she lost Dad. Not that he died, although that was a major part of it, but that I would draw away from the family - exactly as I'd been doing. I didn't blame Mom for the way she felt as much as I blamed myself for making her feel that way. If going for an uncomfortable supper might help, then I could certainly put up with it.

* * *

January 1, 1991

Just got back from supper at Mom's house. It wasn't as good as it could've been but it wasn't that bad, either. Just about missed curfew, though.

Cadets aren't allowed to leave the grounds on New Year's Eve but they are allowed a day pass to visit family on special occasions like New Year's Day. However, everyone has a curfew of 22:00 and anyone caught returning late is penalized. I haven't had it happen yet but I've heard that your privileges get revoked and you don't get any more day passes. I think there's also some kind of punishment for it like extra kitchen or latrine duty but I'm not sure.

Supper was good - ham, scalloped potatoes, salad, pumpkin pie... even the bean casserole I like so much. Since Mike isn't a big fan of it, I'm pretty sure Mom made it for me. She also used the honey mustard glaze on the ham that I like.

The conversation was better, too. There were still some awkward pauses - especially when Mike asked me what I was doing in training - but I was included in most of it, unlike at Christmas. The only time Mom got anywhere near asking about the Academy was when she said "I imagine you're doing just fine in class - just like at college." I couldn't decide whether it was a genuine compliment or a subtle dig at the fact that I wasn't in law school anymore. I decided to take it as a compliment.

According to the schedule tomorrow is the first day on the firing range. I've never shot a gun in my life - never seen one up close, actually - so it should prove interesting. I've heard they're really loud when they go off. The closest I've gotten was seeing them hanging in Uncle Pete and Dad's holsters.

* * *

January 2, 1991

I really don't like guns.

* * *

January 5, 1991

Met up with Uncle Pete at the coffee shop again today. I told him I was having misgivings about my ability to be a police officer. When he asked why I said "I don't like guns."

Funny thing is, he agreed with me.

He said most officers rarely draw their weapon and even fewer actually pull the trigger - he said there's too much paperwork involved. I kind of laughed at that but I knew that wasn't the real reason. He said Hollywood leads people to believe every law enforcement officer is trigger-happy but the reality is 99% of the calls they go on don't require the use of deadly force.

Just as he said that, a funny look came over his face and he got really quiet. I tried to ask him what the problem was but he just made a joke about getting absent minded in his old age and changed the subject.

He told me we'd have to cool the off-grounds meetings. It wouldn't look good to have the commanding officer of the Academy seen playing favorites with one of the cadets. That kind of confused me as we'd only met up a couple of times away from home but I said okay. Whether he decided to share it with me or not, he must've had his reasons.

* * *

February 17, 1991

After all the updates I was putting in here over the last couple of months, it seems kind of strange that I haven't written anything in such a long time.

Training has kept me really busy. The intensity of it is almost overwhelming but in a way I can see why - they have to cram an awful lot into six months. I know if UCLA put just a year's worth of work into that kind of time frame, a lot of students would probably lose their marbles.

I have to say my favorite part is the physical training. Learning how to defend yourself with your bare hands and physical arrest and control is all very interesting but I still prefer the basic working out and running and stuff. It really helps relieve tension and clear the mind.

I had a conversation with Jason about that a couple of weeks ago - it was the first time _he_ ever told _me_ I was nuts. Sure, he works out as well but it's a job requirement, not a personal preference. I told him he should try it sometime.

* * *

April 14, 1991

I put in for a day pass on May 12 - Mother's Day. I hope it gets approved since things have been ramping up quite a bit around here.

As per his request, I haven't met up with Uncle Pete at the coffee shop since that day. Not that I would've had much time to do so, but the look on his face kind of put paid to that idea. I still don't know what he was thinking about but just in case it had something to do with our meetings, I've been keeping my distance.

It's funny... I remember when I was little and I asked my dad what a godfather was. He said it was the guy who stepped in and looked after you in case something happened to your real dad. At the time I didn't understand it but now that I do... I have to say Uncle Pete is probably the only guy I would want to fill that role. Mike's godfather, Steve Price, has been so absent since Dad died that I can't even remember what he looked like but even with the few years we were apart, Uncle Pete still did his level best to look after us.

I think it's really sad that Uncle Pete didn't have kids of his own. He would've been a fantastic father. David was a major-league idiot.

Anyway... We're five months into training and quite a few people have dropped out. Out of the fifty or so that started the class with me, there's only 24 left - myself included. I suppose it's a good thing in that it weeds out all the people that can't handle it before they're put out on the street, but it's a little disheartening as well. There's an awful lot of people in Los Angeles and nowhere near enough police officers to take care of them all.

I guess we'll just have to do the best we can.


	35. Chapter 35

A/N: This, then, will be the last two chapters of the story. I had wanted to post them separately but it isn't possible due to a tight schedule.

Thanks again everyone for reading and reviewing. I really appreciate the time and input.

Until next time...

* * *

May 12, 1991

Got the day pass. Showed up at the house with a bouquet for Mom. She seemed happy to see me.

Ride-alongs now. Not much further to go...

* * *

May 27, 1991

It's Memorial Day. There's an observance here that we can invite family to if we want. I invited Mom and Mike but Mike's on some sort of field trip and Mom didn't show.

I was reading back in this journal and I noticed that the way I write when I'm trying to say I don't blame Mom for the way she feels makes me out to be a world-class jerk. Like I'm some sort of magnanimous, benevolent god waving my hand over the populace and absolving them of their transgressions. It's not what I'm trying to convey at all, so I'm going to attempt to explain.

First of all, the way I come across in those entries is as though I didn't really care about what was going on - like it didn't matter to me. Well, it does. A lot. And every time I came home to no one waiting for me or a chilly reception, it really hurt. But every time I tried to look at the positives: I didn't get kicked out, there was food for me to eat if I wanted it and I knew, deep down inside of me, that it wasn't happening because anyone hated me. It was out of fear. Some days I had to really dig for the little pearls of wisdom, simply because I was so down about it all, but eventually I'd find one and hang onto it.

Since I came here, I've learned a lot about what fear makes people do - and I got it easy. Crime, violence, self-harm - all of those are possible when people are scared enough. And the distance between me and Mom... I'm just as guilty of that as she is. If I hadn't stayed out of the house so much, maybe things would've thawed a bit to the point where we could talk about it.

The other thing I've learned is it's not too late to do that. That's one of the reasons why I got the day pass for Mother's Day - not just to give my mom flowers but to try to show her I'm getting it. I really _do_ understand more now of what's bugging her and I'm trying my best to _be_ understanding about it. We actually had a conversation while I was there. It was about mundane stuff but it was definitely a bona fide conversation.

For now, as long as I don't bring up anything about the police or my training, things are almost back to normal. I have to have faith that eventually we can talk about this stuff, too.

Another thing - and I remembered this, not learned it - is that you can't put off talking to people about things. I saw Uncle Pete the other day getting out of his car and he was in full dress uniform. I was a little surprised at that - until I saw the black band on his badge. He'd just come from the funeral of one of the guys he used to work with back when he was in a squad car. I was going to just walk away (we're still keeping our distance) but when I saw the band and the look on his face, I knew I had to say something. Uncle Pete doesn't have many people he can rely on - in fact, he's the one everyone else goes to - and I knew he could use a friend. If Dad were here, they'd probably go to a bar somewhere and toss one back while they talked. Since he isn't, I tried to give Uncle Pete a shoulder to lean on.

I'd been walking by when I saw him and, like I said, I was just going to keep walking but when I saw him and realized what happened, I stopped. I asked him if he wanted to go to the coffee shop but he invited me up to his office instead. When we got there, he pulled out a bottle of bourbon - I'd never seen him drink before - and poured himself a glass. I took one when he offered it, although I didn't drink it. I just sat there holding it while Uncle Pete talked.

He must've gone on for more than an hour, drinking and reminiscing about the guy who died and the calls they'd been on together. He'd actually started getting a little drunk before he realized what time it was. It was well past suppertime (I'd been going to the mess hall) and he started to get worried that I hadn't eaten yet. I told him I wasn't really hungry anyway.

Then he got up from his chair - I have no idea where he was going - and wobbled a bit, so I put down my glass and grabbed his arm. He's got a big sofa in his office so I helped him out of his jacket and tie and eased him onto the cushions. He was just getting drowsy when he started talking about not leaving things unsaid and making sure I told people how I felt about them. It was maudlin but he was pretty depressed, so it was understandable.

I decided that then was the perfect opportunity to let Uncle Pete know how I felt about him. He wasn't so far gone that he wouldn't remember but he wasn't sober enough to brush it off like he usually does. I told him that when I was a kid and Dad explained what a godfather was I didn't understand why I needed one, but that since Dad died I've come to realize how lucky I am to have him. I also told him that I loved him and thanked him for looking out for us.

For a second it looked like he was going to make some kind of smart or flip remark, but then he just nodded once and said "You're welcome, Junior. Now hand me that glass. Hell of a waste of bourbon."

It took a little doing but I managed to pour it back in the bottle without spilling too much. I don't know if Uncle Pete would've protested about it - he fell asleep right after that last remark. I made a sign that said 'Do Not Disturb' and taped it to his door before I left. His aide asked me what was going on (the guy's name is Joe and he knows about me and Uncle Pete) but I just said "He went to a funeral today" and that was all Joe needed to know. He left the same time I did.

As to my original point: Sometimes it's hard, turning the other cheek. Sometimes it seems downright impossible. If I try to understand where the other person is coming from and try to be a little more compassionate, it makes it a little easier. With any luck, maybe someday people will be able to see my dad in the way that I _am_, not just in the way that I _look_.


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N:** I really hope the ending doesn't 'fizzle' for anyone.

Fun Fact: The LAPD Memorial Fountain was located at Parker Center until its removal to make way for a new jail (in 2002, I believe). According to newspaper reports, the fountain was broken when they attempted to move it to its new location. Since I am a research _fiend_, I have discovered that the marble pieces covering the fountain were actually removed and put into storage and its concrete base was demolished. The cost of relocating the fountain was estimated at $445,000 (2006 US dollars) but ultimately an entirely different memorial was erected at the new LAPD Headquarters building to the tune of $725,000 (2009 US dollars). It was funded privately. Unfortunately, I didn't find the actual pictures until _after_ I'd written the chapter in which it's described, so there's an error there. Jim Reed Senior's name should've been spelled out instead of just his initials. I claim creative license. :P

That is _not_, however, the error I mentioned in an earlier Author's Note. Did anyone catch it?

* * *

June 1, 1991

Today was graduation. Unlike when I graduated college, I didn't feel the enormous sense of relief at finally finishing classes. I actually felt a little sad about it. Not because I wouldn't be seeing any of my classmates anymore - we report to our stations on Monday - but because this place has become comforting to me. Sure it was intense and structured and demanding but there's also a kind of homey feeling to it that I can't explain.

The biggest thing that happened today had little to do with graduation, though.

I'd told Mom and Mike about it when I phoned last weekend (I try to call every weekend if I don't actually make it home) and said I'd like it if they could be there - but I also said if they couldn't, I'd understand. I didn't want Mom to think I was forcing her into a corner about it.

Once the parade was over and we were all standing in formation, I looked over to the seats reserved for family. It took a minute but I finally located Mike - sitting next to an empty chair. I was a little disappointed but not really surprised. Uncle Pete had warned me that Mom might not show up for the ceremony. The whole thing had been a really painful adjustment for her.

I'd also invited Jenny and Jason - their seats were just behind Mike - but I expected those to be empty. Jason's got a pretty irregular schedule and Jenny said she had some labs that had to be completed by Monday, so she wasn't sure if she could make it. The fact that they hadn't come didn't bother me nearly as much as seeing Mike sitting alone.

After I saw Mike I put my eyes front again - it wouldn't do to get caught looking around - but I let my mind wander a little bit while I stood there. I never, in all this time, wanted to hurt my mom in any way but I couldn't not do what I was doing. As soon as I figured it out, that day at the fountain, everything since just seemed like the way things were supposed to be. When I was in law school, it always seemed like there was a constant battle going on inside of me to stick with it. At the Academy, however, it just seemed natural.

I brought my attention back to Uncle Pete at that point. He was giving the graduation speech and had just gotten to the part about the history and reputation of the LAPD. I don't know if I imagined it, but I thought he looked at me as he said "You have some mighty big shoes to fill." Those words went straight through to my soul. I could feel everyone around me stand a little taller when he said it, too, just like I did.

His words made me remember the memorial fountain. Ominous at first, it gradually came to represent courage, dedication, self-sacrifice - and now we were officially a part of that. Big shoes, indeed.

When we broke formation, I wandered around for a little bit but didn't go far. I knew Mike had seen me from the stands (he waved) and I didn't want to make it difficult for him to find me. We were also due to get some photographs taken so I couldn't leave the parade square to go find him. I saw Uncle Pete talking to a few people and I really wanted to talk to him but since he was still in his official role, I couldn't do that either.

A few minutes later Mike showed up, thumped me on the shoulder and shook my hand, saying "Way to go, Jay! Congrats!" I still haven't been able to get him to use my proper name. It's just as well, though - I think. I'm a little old to be called 'Jimmy' and I'm pretty sure it's going to be awkward having people call me 'Jim'. I certainly don't want people call me 'Junior' - except Uncle Pete, of course.

We talked for a few minutes - Mike told me Jason had called and said he couldn't make it because he had to work a double shift - and then Mike asked where the refreshment tables were. He hasn't changed. I pointed him in the direction of the drinks and sandwiches and then stood there waiting while he took off to fill a plate.

It was while I was standing around that I heard someone call my name. At first I thought it was to go for the photo session but when I turned around, my mouth fell open. Standing next to Uncle Pete looking small and kind of lost was Mom. I was so surprised I just stood rooted to the spot. Finally she lifted her arms a bit and I ran over to give her a hug - poise and decorum be damned. I was so happy and relieved that she came, I actually had tears in my eyes (although I'll never admit it out loud).

When we finally let go I looked in her eyes - _really_ looked. I don't know why but I guess I was hoping to see some kind of approval there. What I saw instead was a mixture of fear and pride - but most of all was love. I couldn't imagine how difficult it was for her to see me in the same uniform as Dad, knowing better than I did what I was letting myself in for. All that mattered to me, though, was that she loved me enough to come anyway.

The announcement to form up for pictures came over the loudspeaker then but I didn't want to leave just yet. I looked at her and asked the first thing that popped into my head: "Are you alright?"

She shook her head and answered "I'm not alright, Jimmy, but I'll be okay."

I gave her another hug and let go just as Uncle Pete said "Officer Reed - it's time." Just the sound of it sent a kind of nervous thrill through me.

I don't know if I can live up to that name, Dad, but I'm going to do my best.

* * *

**THE END**


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